


Noble Encounter

by Shinocchi



Series: Same Heart; Different Universe [12]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Gift Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinocchi/pseuds/Shinocchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba and Noiz were more than just Princes from two different nations; they were also lovers, a pair whom their relationship took a swift turn into a sticky taboo state when both of their countries declare war at each other.</p><p>As the next Kings to their own nations, it was up to them to define what it was be to be King, and how chaos should be confronted.</p><p><b>Updated with Extra Story: Peace of Mind</b>.</p><p>[Prince AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the design of [Gothic Aoba](https://68.media.tumblr.com/a3fc4ac81a8c4f24ff5a79de16468090/tumblr_nv0fuydBu11u8whdfo1_r1_500.png), who looks more like a beautiful noble Prince in my eyes than anything else.
> 
> I didn't expect this to be so huge either, but I love plot-building and character developments so even though it's far to being the type of multi-chapter stories I always yearn to write, I hope I could give this AU a proper story of its own. 
> 
> Lastly, thank you for reading and enjoy~

_If you see carefully, you might be able to catch sight of a hint of seven colours in the wind; and if you listen carefully, you might even be able to hear sounds, voices, noises that don’t belong to you. Those are the voices of your people, My Lord. And those are the people you should be protecting; they are important, perhaps more important than yourself._

The year was 1890; it was a year of prosperity, of peace and of respectable nature between the different nations that’d spread throughout a well-defined, adequate pieces of territorial. It was an era of benevolence, where verbal confrontations gained an upper hand over physical hostilities; it was a period that was, based on what was seen by the naked eyes, heading towards a brighter, more established future. Every citizens stayed in harmony; they welcomed citizens from the other nations, treated them with care and respected them, despite the different cultures they possessed.

It was, and should be an age that no one should worry about anything at all. Citizens were contented; there was no need to worry about the deficient of resources in their daily life. It was, in fact, the best era to reside in.

But those were all beautiful deceptions. Rulers of the nations were especially conscious of how everything that was perceived from the naked eyes was simply a tale too good to be true. Despite declaring an equal voice, each and every one of the nation was aware of how very different each and every one of them was. And even though there were countless times when one or more nation would swallow down their frustration and endured the decision made over a majority agreement, they weren’t courteous towards it, and there would always be a limit to _how much_ each of them could withstand.

And sooner or later, one of them would explode, bringing the issues to the table at long last. Depending on the extent of wrath they’d been enduring, there was no guarantee what method they’d use to resolve the matter.

And for as far as each nation knew, physical confrontation was never excluded from the list of option one could consider for resolution.

 

* * *

 

The sun was high, the air clear and fresh when the Prince made his way out of the castle, heading towards the backyard where he found a black horse tied under the tree. As the horse continued enjoying its food, the Prince moved towards it with languid steps, patting him gently on the head as he pulled a tender smile at it.

“Have you been well today, Ren?”

The horse let out a low growl in response. The Prince could not read animal’s language, but at the very least, the horse looked pleased, which in turn drew a relieved sigh out of the Prince.

“Fancy a walk?” the Prince asked again. One low growl from the horse later, the Prince stroked his head for one last time before he pulled himself up, mounting onto the horse with one swift movement and with another light pat on the horse’s back, they sped through the green field, the tranquil breeze buzzing past the Prince’s face made him feel all the more relieved that he’d made the decision to head out earlier this morning.

It wasn’t his initial intention to head out of the castle today either. But he’d found himself exhausted after a few rounds of roundtable conferences with the other royalty members, causing him to almost doze off halfway through the discussion session. His physical state hadn’t been the best lately. It could be an aftereffect of the accumulated pressure he’d been facing for the past few months, or it could be how he was weighed with lessons over lessons every single day ever since he’d picked up the responsibility to learn how to be the next King that had worn him out. Or perhaps, it could also be the fact that _he_ had been visiting very much often recently that had cost him his rest.

Letting out a small sigh from the hasty realization, the Prince tapped hard on the horse’s back, urging it to run faster. He needed time for himself, he thought as their strides picked up speed. He couldn’t afford to be in such a strenuous state at all times, especially not when he was supposed to be the next King.

The era was changing; it was a fact that he’d discerned ever since he picked up the burden to _learn_ about the world’s realities. He thought it was unfair to deceive his people like this, but at the same time, he understood the consequences that’d come with it if he was to let the truth out. There was nothing much he could do but to continuously figure out ways to safeguard his people and his nation by ensuring that whatever decision he was to make would cost them the least penalties.

His mind completely clouded with responsibilities, he only halted his thinking process when he noticed that someone was standing under the tree where Ren once was, waving at him with a smile as the shadow beckoned him over.

“Your Highness,” the man bowed the moment the Prince stopped his horse back at the shelter.

“Hey.” With the support of his Knight, he jumped down of the horse, allowing a few moments when his Knight secured the horse by the tree before he started again. “Is everything going on well now, Koujaku?”

His Knight released a weak smile, one gesture that had efficiently told the Prince of his answer. “It’s still pretty hectic. Negotiations had been hard-hitting. If no resolution could be made within the next few days, a war might occur.”

“A… war,” the Prince repeated, a deep frown immediately forming in between his eyebrows.

“We’re still trying our best to talk our way out of it,” his Knight hurriedly continued, noticing the displeasure on his Prince’s face. “Don’t worry, Pri—“

The Prince then shot his Knight a glare, causing the other to swallow down his throat before he continued,

“Aoba,” he corrected. “There’s nothing you can do. Just let us handle the unpleasant stuff.”

Aoba let out a loud sigh. “That’s _exactly_ my point. Am I still worth of being King if I can’t even do anything especially during a time like this?” He felt useless. He felt as if he was not worthy of the Ruler title, and he even considered pulling himself out of the role if the situation was to continue.

“Perhaps… there’s one thing you could do,” Koujaku paused, while Aoba eyed him inquisitively. He would do _anything_ to ease the situation now. “The other country wanted our land because they deem that they could make better use of the land than us. It’s obvious that they wanted the prosperity to themselves. It also seems that they couldn’t care less about their own people, at least that’s the impression they had been giving out ever since they confronted us. We are never in good terms. But,” Koujaku gave Aoba a roguish smirk. At that instant, Aoba didn’t even need him to tell him precisely what he meant before he looked away, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “ _you_ are different. You and their next King are in good terms, no?”

He knew exactly what Koujaku meant. But it was against his own belief to bring personal sentiments into something as formal as this; something grave that concerned the entire of his nation. His frown deepened. Koujaku was right, but it was _him_ that needed to figure out a solution to put this melancholy to an end. For Koujaku, or even for the virtuous of his nation, talking to _him_ seemed like the best resolution at the time. But for Aoba, it was a critical aspect to govern if his step would break or save his own country.

He needed to make a decision, and he didn’t have much time to think about it.

Feeling the hefty weight returning to his chest, he groaned again before he turned his back towards his Knight and headed back towards the castle without another word.

They’d never talked about anything that was concerning their own nations before. Before they knew it, it’d become an unspoken rule _not_ to talk about it when they were to face each other under private circumstances. If he could, Aoba would never want to resort to this resolution.

With the immense burden in his heart, he strolled senselessly along the corridor, only smiled gently at people who greeted him along the way, completely distracted. It was an abrupt pull on his arm that’d wrestled him into a corner that he finally snapped back to his senses, was about to scream when a hand covered his mouth, preventing him from doing exactly that.

“Shh, it’s me.”

Speaking of the devil…

He pulled a deep grimace before he elbowed the person behind him, right at his abdomen, causing the other to release him on impulse.

 

“You do know that I’m trained for fights, right?” he looked over his shoulder, pouting at the man behind him while the other clutched onto his stomach, a hand supporting the wall.

The other Prince was… well, easily recognizable. Not only that he possessed features that stood out naturally from the crowd, he also possessed this overwhelming aura that sometimes made Aoba feel at a disadvantage despite being a Prince himself. While he straightened himself up, ultimately pacing his way towards Aoba with the more-than-familiar smirk returning to his profile, he grasped Aoba on the chin, one hand snaking towards his waist as he pulled the other over, lips pressed against Aoba’s in the next second.

One thing about him that _wasn’t_ prince-like, though, was how shameless he could be when it came to facing Aoba. Public display of affection seemed to be the least of his concern, which was a concern of its own considering how prominent both of them were as public figures. His actions were no way near celestial, and especially with the sultry situation they were in now, being caught would raise suspicions that Aoba was sure that he didn’t need to be piled up onto his already weighty basket of burdens.

The kiss lasted for only a brief second before Aoba pushed the other way, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand as he scowled, glaring at the other.

“How many times do I need to tell you to _stop_ doing this?”

“Hmm? I don’t remember agreeing to take orders from another Prince, though.” Aoba couldn’t argue with that. None of them were more superior than the other and none of them would want their current positions to falter either. Despite that, Aoba strode towards the man, gripped him on the waist and practically hauled him down the corridor without a look at the passers-by before they came to a stop in front of what seemed to be Aoba’s room.

“As straightforward as usual, I see,” the man teased, walking into the room like it was the most natural thing to do as Aoba locked the door behind him.

“Shut up, it’s not that.” He was sure that his face was bright red now; he’d portrayed actions that showed nothing of the royalty position he was in either. While he attempted to hold his composure, the other Prince had sat on the bed, gazing around the space as if it was his first time in Aoba’s room.

“Noiz?” Aoba called out, urging the Prince to turn to look at him. “Seriously, you can’t do that anymore. I’ll call you out if you do it again, you hear that?”

The Prince – Noiz – however, lifted a smirk and crossed his arms. “Do it then.”

“What..?”

“I don’t mind. In fact, it’d be better. Then I wouldn’t need to keep sneaking into this place again since I’d be retained here anyway.”

The calm Aoba had managed to regain vanished into thin air upon hearing Noiz’s response. Growling, he took speedy, angry steps towards Noiz, glared at him, before he stretched his hand behind him and smacked a pillow right at his face.

“How the hell are you the possessor of the next throne?” he grumbled. “You don’t even act like a King, for God’s sake!”

“I don’t _choose_ to be a Prince,” Noiz retorted as he dodged another one of Aoba’s pillow attack. “I can’t do anything with what I’m born with.”

“Y-you could’ve given the rights to others, you know? Theo?”

“Unfortunately, the rules in our country state that the eldest of the Princes would have to succeed the throne. Like I said,” purposely holding a pause, Noiz pulled Aoba over by the wrist, causing Aoba to topple right into his embrace before he hugged the entire of Aoba’s body with this arms. “I can’t do anything with what I’m born with. You’re the same, no?”

He knew where this was heading to. True enough, without waiting for his response, Noiz had leaned towards him and pressed a soft kiss against his neck, eliciting a soft moan out of his lips as he found his grip on Noiz’s lavish set of coat dwindle with every affectionate caress Noiz was giving him. Across the two years that they had been going out, Noiz seemed to have grasped every one of his weaknesses, his behaviour, and even every one of his action seamlessly, remembering them by heart and it did nothing but make Aoba feel even more at a disadvantage especially when Noiz was to portray such a hard-headed gesture that he could never resist. Noiz’s touch, Noiz’s scent, every one of these sensations swarmed on him like huge waves, efficiently pulling him away from his burdens and pushing him into a reality that he’d always yearned to be in.

It was only during this time that Aoba felt as if he was faced with a real Prince – one that was flawless, elegant, and always ready to conquer.

“Ah…” He let out a weak moan when Noiz took the whole of his throat in with his mouth, licking suggestively with the tip of his tongue before he grasped the back of Aoba’s neck with his hand, ultimately having Aoba to cling onto him for support.

“W-wait,” Aoba pleaded softly. This Prince was too much for him. Despite his carefree attitude, he never failed to lure Aoba into his seductive yet superior trap, creating a comfort space that was so incredibly alluring that Aoba couldn’t help but fall willingly right into it. It’d been a tough era for him. He was a Prince, and he was destined – he _wanted_ – to shoulder the weight of his nation in his brother’s place, who was supposed to be the next successor to the throne if not because of his fatal disease. He’d promised his brother to do the best he could – for his brother, for his people. And the last thing he needed was to waver and have his brother to take over his place instead.

But now… while he was pushed onto the bed, with Noiz hovering on top of him, with the way he was pulling his cloak off in such a sophisticated yet seductive gesture, he closed his eyes. Maybe he needed some rest once in a while too. A war was on its way. He needed to be prepared – both physically and emotionally.

“You are very submissive today.” Noiz’s heated whisper right by his ear sent instant chills down his spine. Snapping his eyes open with the intention to send a glare in Noiz’s direction, his expression was immediately shifted into one of surprise when he noticed the gentle glimmer in Noiz’s eyes. He seemed to be staring at him for the entire time now and for some reason, that tiny yet vague gesture gave Aoba’s heart a tight clench. If they were going for war… Noiz would be his _enemy_ then.

He looked away. It was hard looking Noiz in the eyes now. He felt filthy. He felt as if he’d betrayed his people and his nation. He shouldn’t be doing this with an _enemy_.

“Noiz, I…”

“I love you, Aoba.”

Noiz _always_ knew what the best time to counter his uncertainties was. As if he’d just seen through what was in Aoba’s mind, he captured Aoba in a wet, passionate kiss, swallowing every moans, every other word Aoba intended to say, his hand embracing, caressing, _worshipping_ Aoba’s body all at the same time.

If they _really_ ended up being enemies, at least Aoba wanted to remember how much passion he’d given this very man – one who was once so cold and so detached from the world when they first met. They would never regret, and if could, he’d want to prevent the worst from happening.

It wasn’t too late yet.

Noiz was already burying his head in between Aoba’s legs when Aoba opened his eyes again, the wet slurping sound that was Noiz licking wet trails up and down of his dick almost pushing whatever he intended to say out of his head.

“Have you heard…?” he asked slowly, hands clenching the mattress, eyes dazed with unconcealed want.

“Hmm?” Noiz’s unintentional hum sent feeble vibrations all over his length, his dick gave an aroused twitch before Noiz pushed it right into his mouth, as if attempting to engulf every inch of Aoba’s desire into him.

“The…” he paused, just to pull in a few deep breaths .The tip of his dick kept hitting the back of Noiz’s throat and if it didn’t make things worse, Noiz’s intentional scratch along his shaft dangled him at the edge between fear and anticipation. He already knew what Noiz was capable of doing, and his unpredictability was something he both loved and hated at the same time. “…war.” He ended his words with a bite on the lips, a loud moan almost slipping out of his lips if he hadn’t sustain himself just in time.

Noiz released his arousal with a loud pop then. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he sent an impassive gaze at Aoba’s direction, giving them a momentary space to breathe before he spoke again,

 

“What happened to keeping business matters out of personal contact?” His voice was colder than before, telling Aoba enough that he had, as expected, prodded on a spot which was what they considered as a taboo to be rummaged upon.

“You know I don’t care about that,” Noiz continued, without waiting for Aoba’s answer. With one hand on Aoba’s dick, he continued stroking indolently on it, his thumb occasionally rubbing on the slit while he spoke, with tone that was a big contrast to his body language. “War or peace, if it’s bound to happen, it _will_ happen. I’m more concerned with our relationship. Whatever is to happen, our relationship will never change. Isn’t that our promise?”

It made Aoba feel extremely guilty. Noiz was right. They’d already fell into a road of no return when they started out on this journey. Aoba never regretted and he knew Noiz never either. But it was a matter of balancing between personal emotions and the fate of his own nation now. It was a harsh time that _both_ of them needed to face.

“So you heard,” Aoba started, his voice a tad more firmed than before now. “You were involved with the discussion as well, I believe.”

“Aoba.” Noiz said. If Aoba was firmed, he was definitely more so. “Yes, I _am_ involved with the discussion. But like I said, no matter what is to happen, I’m not going to allow anything to come between us.”

It was a powerful hint for a halt of topic. Defeated, Aoba let out a smile, then stretching his hands out at Noiz as he pulled his Prince boyfriend closer. “I’m sorry. I’m just… a bit worried.”

Noiz then finally released a comforted sigh before he curved a tender smile at Aoba, nuzzling the tip of his nose against his boyfriend’s cheek as he said, “I know.”

And, before Aoba knew it, Noiz’s hand that was initially at his dick had crept towards his hole, one finger pushing into it as he searched around. A gratified hum, accompanied by a soft peck against Aoba’s cheek later, he was pushing a second finger in, his motion turning more punitive with every passing second while Aoba clutched his back, leaving scratch marks on his skin.

“I want you. We haven’t been seeing each other for days.”

Aoba chuckled. “It’s only days.”

“ _Only_ ,” Noiz repeated. “That’s too much.”

And that was the last thing Aoba heard before he felt Noiz’s dick pushing into him, stretching his insides open. He was so slow, so gentle; but the soft gaze fixed on Aoba was so sweltering yet so affectionate all at the same time. If Noiz was to be a King, Aoba thought as he was pounded, again and again, would this be the aura he’d be giving out? Would he be the stern, meticulous yet gentle, compassionate King to his people? Would he hold the same amount of passion he was showing at Aoba now to his Knights? To his people?

He was so overwhelmed by the tangled emotions Noiz was giving him now that it was hard to focus. His thoughts were in a mess – he felt grateful, happy, but scared, worried, all at the same time. And all he could do at this very moment was to expel these emotions on the motions Noiz was giving him now, surrendering his very body to this young Prince and prayed, as hard as he could, that things would eventually come to a good end as long as _this person_ was still a Prince – one opponent he could unconditionally trust.

 

It was already late evening when they laid on the bed, naked and sweaty from the lovemaking session. Aoba’s gaze fixed on the window, staring vacuously as the sky darkened bit by bit, dark gradients fell into the room, illuminating heavy shadows that obscured half of his profile.

It was when Noiz encircled his arms around Aoba’s waist, pulling him closer and planting a kiss on the top of his head that Aoba turned around to meet his gaze.

“Still thinking about the war?” Noiz asked, sounding almost like a whisper. Aoba lowered his head, staring at their intertwined fingers instead.

“It’s hard not to think about it,” he confessed, completely honest.

“I understand.”

“Don’t you think about it?” Aoba asked then. He knew Noiz had his own way of dealing with his nation’s matter but this level of indifference was way too unfathomable for Aoba to consume. It was like Noiz was purposely pulling himself off the topic, as if he didn’t want to share this part of his life with Aoba. It was probably done out of good intentions but it evoked a rippled tension from within Aoba. If the situation continued on, there might be a possibility that they might be pulled apart and it terrified Aoba.

When they were out of this room, they were no longer the same Noiz and Aoba like how they were now. They were both Princes – and Noiz would not be Noiz: he would be Prince Wilhelm instead, a persona Aoba hadn’t encountered for a lot of times.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Noiz said, resting his head against Aoba’s. “If it’s bound to be, it’s bound to be.”

He remembered Noiz telling him this exact phrase over and over again. But it wasn’t in Aoba’s nature to simply let things happen just like that, especially not when this very thing was something dreadful, so petrifying that it involved the destiny of a whole nation of people.

He looked away again. He could barely understand Noiz and he hoped so much that he could do as how Noiz had advised him to – don’t think too much about it.

“Hey.” Noiz was using the same affectionate tone at him again, one that told Aoba effectually that he had inadvertently worried the Prince once again.

“I have a question,” Noiz said. “Which do you think is more important: your own happiness, or the happiness of your country?”

Aoba’s eyes brightened. As he considered, Noiz showered him with kisses all over again, nibbling the shell of his ear as he pecked delicately at his cheek.

“My country,” Aoba replied steadily. “Seeing everyone happy means being happy myself.”

“As expected,” Noiz grinned. “But,” he paused again. Pulling his hand out of Aoba’s grasp, he brought it up to his chest, resting his palm against where Aoba’s heart lied before he continued, “you’re lying to yourself.”

“I’m not,” Aoba immediately retorted, his stare now glowered with scorching intensity. “I’m a _Prince_.”

“But you’re also Aoba,” Noiz countered. Before Aoba could conjure another comeback again, he gripped his hand, kissing the back of it and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll figure out a way.”

“ _What_ exactly? We’re going to have a war, Noiz. We’re going to… _fight_ each other.”

Aoba was _indeed_ lying to himself; his irresolute gaze alongside his shivering tone had given him out. He wasn’t afraid of the war itself. Like Noiz said, if it was bounded to happen, then it _will_ happen, regardless if they wanted it to or not. But what Aoba was afraid of was the fact that he was going to fight _Noiz_ that had pulled him into the greatest state of contradiction. Noiz had seen through him in a whim, like he always had.

“I’m willing to become the world’s enemy if I need to,” Noiz whispered as he closed his eyes. Aoba’s warmth felt comfortable in his embrace and he wanted so very much to be able to feel him in his arms just like that, whenever he could, without the need to worry about all the obstacles the world was presenting to them. “I’ll do it for you.”

It was obvious that Noiz had seen through him. Every one of his words were words Aoba was too horrified to spell it out for himself. He didn’t want to give Noiz promises that he wasn’t sure if he could keep; and he wasn’t sure if he was capable to do what he needed and _wanted_ to do either.

“That’s… immature thinking,” Aoba said at long last. “The fate of your nation and your people is in your hands. How can you say something so… something so selfish?”

“Because if we don’t fight for our own happiness, no one would do it for us. You were the one who told me this, no? I’m just living what I think is right, what _you_ taught me is right.”

Aoba fell silent. Everything was against him now. He wanted so very much to do what Noiz intended to do as well. But unlike Noiz, he was holding the responsibilities of _two_ persons and there was no room for blunders.

They couldn’t afford mistakes, especially not when his personal emotions were the cause of it.

“If you have a better idea,” Noiz smirked, dragging both of them under the sheets and cuddling Aoba in a cuddle at the same time. “Prove me wrong then.”

And Aoba wondered how he was able to do that when he couldn’t even prove himself wrong.

 

When Aoba first met Noiz, he was in a friendly neighbouring trip with his family. He was six then, and the moment he stepped into the other country gave him a huge sense of awe that he wasn’t able to forge up till today. The atmosphere of the foreign country was so very different from his own. While the surrounding of his own home country was simple, casual and very humble, the other country was a complete contrast – it was intricate, filled with extravagance and more importantly, the people in that very country was obviously very proud of their own heritage as they merely stared at the royalty of a different country with almost deadpan gazes before they gave them a quick bow and returned to their work. It gave Aoba a culture shock. He didn’t know anything about this ‘adult world’ at that time and he could only assume that this was how it’d be even if he was to travel to another country that wasn’t this. He’d mentally prepared himself then, feeling the heavy burden of his own future responsibilities at the same time.

The King and Queen of the neighbouring country, which Aoba then came to know as Germany, were friendly people, at the very least. Perhaps it was mere courtesy, but it made Aoba feel just a tad less nervous. He’d come to acknowledge how these so-called bogus front was also a skill to survive in this competitive world. He couldn’t understand what they adults were talking about then, so when he was released out of the meeting room, he almost bounced his way out, desperate for a breath of fresh air.

He only had Koujaku then, who had been his closest personal bodyguard ever since he was born. Without constant observation by the adults, with only his most trusted companion by his side, he felt the initial burden within him lifted ever so slightly. His spirit elevated, he literally ran his way down the corridor, completely forgetting that he was in a different country, completely ignoring a shouting Koujaku before he crashed his way right into a person, who’d just emerged from a corner he was turning into.

“I’m sorry!” he immediately shrieked. When his vision returned to him, he realized that he was staring at a small boy, one who was definitely younger than him as the other sat on the floor, obviously fell from the impact earlier. Aoba’s heart made a leap. Stretching a hand, he intended to pull the small boy up before the boy looked up. He had beautiful lime-green eyes, a small frown forming in between his eyebrows as he pouted, visibly irked.

Aoba didn’t know who he was then. He’d never knew that this country had a Prince – Prince Wilhelm – who was in line for the next throne and who was glaring at him with displease written all over his face.

He stood up, totally abandoning Aoba’s kind gesture to help him up. Patting the dust off his knees, his eyes brightened when he noticed that blood was oozing from his knee caps.

“Y-you’re hurt!” Aoba pointed at his wounds. Looking around for something or someone he could call for help, it was when his hand was grasped that he turned his attention back to the boy again.

“I’m sorry, it’s painful, isn’t it?”

The boy, however, simply looked away. Then, without a word, he dragged Aoba down the corridor. Without knowing what to do, Aoba simply followed, assuming that he wanted him to take responsibility for accidentally hurting him.

But all the little boy did was staring at him when they came into a luxurious room. The room had tall ceiling, a majestic-looking bed located in the centre of it, with decorations so lavishly placed that it made Aoba feel as if he’d just entered a whole new palace of its own. Not knowing what to do, he returned the boy’s stare, expecting him to give him an answer.

“Erm…” he started when the boy remained quiet, eyes still fixed on him. “Your legs are still bleeding…”

The boy didn’t seem like he was concerned at all, though. He simply stared at Aoba, as if he was looking for something before he opened his mouth.

“Who are you?” was his first question, which caught Aoba completely off guard.

“I’m Aoba.”

“You’re not from here.” It amazed Aoba how agitated the gaze the boy was wearing now. He was _sure_ that he was younger than him, and he was _certain_ that he himself wouldn’t be able to give out such an expression despite being a Prince himself.

“I’m… from Midorijima,” he answered slowly.

“Are you a Prince?” the boy asked then; he seemed to have found the answer for himself the entire time he was observing Aoba.

Aoba nodded. “N-nice to meet you.”

He held out a hand, remembering that it was a form of mannerism in this country to greet each other. The boy, however, didn’t take it. Instead, he inched closer, staring deep into Aoba’s eyes before he said again.

“When are you leaving?”

“Soon, I think,” Aoba mumbled. He wasn’t used to close interaction with a person like this, his closest companion had always been Koujaku.

The boy pulled his distance apart, and at that fleeting moment, Aoba noticed the hint of solitude in his eyes. Completely acting on instinct, he grasped the boy’s hand, causing the boy to freeze in his actions.

“Let’s play!”

It was an abrupt sense of relation that’d hit him right in the core when he detected that very swift moment of emotion. He knew this feeling very well. Being a Prince himself, he was confined in the comfort zone his parents had built for him ever since he came to make sense of things. Being a Prince, he had no choice but to live a life that was predetermined. His freedom was limited, so was the people he met.

“What is your name?” he asked, as a means to lighten up the mood.

The boy merely stared at him, then, he looked around the room, only coming back to him after a few seconds of silence.

“Noiz.”

Noiz was his first friend. And he was sure that _he_ was Noiz’s first friend as well. They never saw each other very frequently either, only when Aoba visited this country with his parents – until when ‘Noiz’ was ten and Aoba was fourteen that he came to know that his childhood friend was more than just ‘Noiz’.

He was Prince Wilhelm, who was, as Aoba’s instinct had told him, the person who’d hold the throne as the next King of his country – just like Aoba.

 

With just sufficient sunlight pouring into the room, Aoba could dimly make out Noiz’s beautiful profile – his features astounding, every inch of his skin screamed of nothing but perfection. He traced a finger along his brows, trailing a path down to his nose as he let out a small chuckle. When Noiz slept like this, he looked just like any other nineteen-year-old, no burden of the world on his shoulder; just a quiet, untroubled young man who was taking gradual steps in making a mark in his own life.

Oftentimes, Aoba found himself hoping that none of them were part of a royalty family. He hoped that they were just another one of the citizens in the countries they were in, their major concerns being the need to meet their daily ends. But even if they were to live a normal life with qualms, he was sure that they’d be less stressed out like this. Despite not possessing a first-rate status like what was weighting on their shoulders now, they knew that a life like that was precisely what made a simple life desirable and happier at the same time. But Noiz had never come to know of any of these. He’d lived a life so well-appointed that he was captivated beneath the very tall prominent walls that were the borders between royalty and normality. He’d never exposed himself to the life of a normal person in the town, he’d never cooked for himself before, let alone taking care of his own needs for himself.

If there was anything Aoba could do to teach him, like how he’d promised him when they were younger, it was perhaps _this_ – how _living_ a proper life meant.

With that thought, he leaned towards Noiz, kissing him softly on the cheek before Noiz’s eyelashes flutter. The next time Aoba looked up he was already staring at a Noiz who was awake, and who was giving him a smirk that he’d come to memorize.

“Morning,” he smiled. It’d been a while since they came to greet the first ray of sunlight together. Instead of replying him, Noiz sat up, just enough to lurch his body at Aoba and kissed him on the lips.

“Morning,” he mumbled against Aoba’s lips. He was about to raise a hand just so he could pull Aoba down when Aoba pushed him away, pouting as he grumbled,

“Wait. You need to do something about this,” he complained.

“About what?”

“It’s a bad habit.”

“But it’s not inappropriate.”

When he’d first met Noiz, he’d never expected him to be so blunt as well. It was when he was in his teens that he’d started to grow extremely close with Aoba, eventually leading him to confess and ultimately having Aoba nodding back at him with flushes that spread up to the tips of his ears. He loved Noiz; he loved how passionate he could be. But sometimes, it became so overwhelming that he found himself facing troubles to accommodate with his physical needs.

“I need to talk to you.”

His serious tone seemed to have done the trick. Drawing back for a bit, Noiz leaned his head against the bedhead, fingers crossed on the sheet as he stared, visibly waiting for Aoba to spill the beans on him.

“I’ve been thinking for a while now,” Aoba started slowly, mindlessly twirling the tips of his hair as he searched for his words. “Have you been visiting your own town?”

“For business purposes, yeah,” Noiz replied, deadpanned.

“How did you do it, though? Did you just walk around or did you actually talk to your people?”

Noiz fell silent for a moment, his gaze darted away from Aoba’s, lingering fleetingly on the ceiling before it fell on the pair of light brown orbs again. “Walk around. Talk to the leaders, checking on estates and crops.”

“No talking to normal people at all?”

“When I visit, I usually go with a pack of people. They’d do most of the talking, and most of the time, I’d be surrounded by bodyguards that normal people don’t really have the chance to approach me, let alone talk to me.”

“Hmmm…” So it was just like how he thought it was. Supporting his chin with his hand, Aoba closed his eyes, various plans flashing past his head as he considered. He knew that Noiz might already have his own plan on how to handle the upcoming catastrophe they were to face. But now that he’d brought it up, this was also a matter of its own that needed to be attended to. Aoba had no intention to interfere with the way rulers in Noiz’s home country manage their own country; he didn’t want to poke his nose into businesses that weren’t his to begin with. But the fact that Noiz didn’t know much about the life of a normal person bugged him greatly and this time, he wanted to help him, not as a fellow Prince, but as a friend, or a lover, any label that could genuinely express his intention to help Noiz grow into a better individual of his own.

“What’s in your mind?”

When he opened his eyes, Noiz was staring curiously at him. This man was so young – nineteen – yet he was already holding this huge responsibility to crack or mend a relationship between two countries. Even if he wasn’t a fellow Prince who was literally in the same position as Noiz, he’d want to help him out as a friend as much as he could. Noiz was just… someone he couldn’t leave alone.

“I have a request, Prince Wilhelm.”

The sudden change of name perked Noiz’s attention significantly. There was only one occasion when Aoba would call him by his birth name – and that was when they were both facing serious political problems concerning both their nations in a similar setting.

Sensing the severity, his eyebrows knitted into a frown as he waited.

“Let’s visit town together. Not as Princes, but as normal people.”

If Aoba was to comment that Noiz was an erratic person, that he could never know what Noiz’s next action could be, Noiz would say the same.

Because he honestly couldn’t understand the rationale behind visiting a town, especially not during a time like this.

 


	2. Normality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The huge difference was the biggest agony for Aoba.  
> But there are similarities where differences lie. There always are.

The tall wall of border was a deadly curse – it was a determinant between being royalty and being normal and all Aoba had vowed to do when he took over the throne was to break the walls down and crush the fine line between himself and his people. It was a vision that sounded too far-fetched for the current King to consider; the plan being too impossible to execute at the moment. But for Aoba, it wasn’t something implausible at all. Aoba’s era would be a new turnover; and all he needed to do now was to make sure that his era would have the chance to surface.

After making sure that Noiz was obediently sitting in his room after a quick morning make-out, Aoba slipped out of the door, walking and greeting as naturally as he could as he made his way towards the lower floor, where most royalty members would never set foot in. He paced close by the wall, hoping that his choice of clothes for that morning wasn’t too conspicuous before he turned a corner, ultimately leaning against the wall to catch a breath.

His destination was the closet – where most of the spare clothing were stored. He wasn’t looking for anything too distinctive, it was fine even if was the most common clothing he could find as long as it could bring them out of the place. He was only two steps away from the door when he heard footsteps behind him. Instantly, every one of his nerves frozen. There was nothing to be afraid of, to be frank. He owned the place anyway. If someone was to find him out he could simply say that he was here for inspection and no one would even have the rights to suspect him.

But that was if the person who’d found him was any other subordinate in the castle that wasn’t…

“What do we have here, huh?”

…Koujaku.

He swallowed down his throat, mind already rattling with millions of excuse to save himself. But the moment he turned around to face his Knight, every one of those seamless speech was thrown out of the window, leaving him to smile awkwardly at his childhood friend.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Koujaku bowed, just enough to still had his eyes fixed on Aoba.

“Morning,” Aoba responded, stretching his hand out into a suave wave, a signal of acknowledgement and appreciation.

“Are you looking for something, my Prince?”

Usually, Aoba would glare, telling Koujaku off for using formal terms on him; an unspoken rule between the two of them. But now, the two words rolled into his ears, making sense in his head, the tips of his fingers trembled as the already stroppy smile he was wearing turned even more awkward with every passing second.

This wasn’t a form of respect – this was a form of subliminal interrogation; despite Aoba being the one with a higher status here.

“I… well, I was just looking around.” It was not convincing. Not at all. And Aoba didn’t need Koujaku’s loud sigh to tell him that.

“’Looking around’,” Koujaku repeated. “You’re underestimating me.”

Of course he wasn’t, it was just a miserable plea for escape. But all Koujaku did was walking passed Aoba, heading towards the closet room where Aoba was headed to and swung the door open, revealing cabinets after cabinets of spare clothing.

“You have business with these?” Koujaku asked, pointing his chin into the room.

All Aoba could do was nod. Should he tell Koujaku? Or had Koujaku found out about what he was intending to do?

“What’s in your mind, Aoba?” Koujaku urged, noticing the reluctance in Aoba’s expression. The treadmill was gaining speed in Aoba’s head again, desperately trying to find a proper way out before a new voice resounded between them, grabbing the intensity away.

“We’re heading out.”

Aoba turned hysterically. Standing right by his side was Noiz, whom bed hair was still apparent with features of impassiveness that Aoba only saw him using on Koujaku.

“Why are you he—oh.” Immediately realizing what was going on, the frown in between Koujaku’s eyebrows deepened, accompanied by a brash cough. A quick bow at Noiz later, displease returned to Koujaku’s features as he continued from where he was interrupted. “Going out, where? Should I prepare the horses?”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Aoba shook his head agitatedly.

“We’re going on as normal people,” Noiz interrupted, again with the nonchalant tone. “… or so Aoba suggested.”

“As normal people?” Koujaku returned his gaze to Aoba, who had stepped a pace back, just in case. “Why?”

“Ah, well.” Aoba scratched the back of his head. How should he explain this to Koujaku? Everything he was about to say sounded inappropriate, especially when they were in this chaotic situation now that this step Aoba suggested meant nothing more than another contradiction.

“I have some business outside, Koujaku,” he finally said, the resolution switch flipped in his head. “And it’s something that only can be achieved with a normal person’s eyes, not a Prince’s.”

There was a long stretch of silence between them before Koujaku let out a heavy sigh, then walking into the room without another word. Noiz and Aoba exchanged brief eye contact before they followed Koujaku in, in which they were both handed with two pairs of clothing which looked just like any other clothing the current residents of Midorijima usually wore.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do but you’re my Prince,” Koujaku said, his tone less intimidating but definitely more earnest now. “And a Knight’s responsibility is to trust his Prince.”

“Koujaku, really, I—“

“You don’t need to explain,” Koujaku smiled at long last, lifting the hefty stone off Aoba’s chest. “I trust you, I mean it. You must have your own ways to deal with the current situation of our country. And, as I said before,” he paused, shifting a fleeting look at Noiz before he continued again, “You’re _different_ , because of… reasons.”

Nothing was suggestive at the end of Koujaku’s words, even though it sounded as if he was implying something else. Aoba knew that he was talking about the unique, now forbidden relationship he was sharing with Noiz; and he was right, after all. If there was one person who could melt this tension in their country, it was definitely Aoba.

“But I don’t agree with letting both of you going out alone, both of you are Princes, after all. And the ones taking over the thrones, nevertheless. I can’t afford to have anything to happen to both of you, even though I’m sure that our nation is the safest place on Earth.”

He thought that Koujaku had finally given his yes but the sternness returned to his eyes as he gave both Aoba and Noiz a strict stare, hands crossed in front of his chest.

“I’m coming.”

“But that would give us away,” Aoba exclaimed, while Noiz leaned against the wall, eyes closed, arms crossed.

“Not if I’m following from afar. You know, you really don’t know a lot about what I do besides being your all-time bodyguard.”

Now that Koujaku mentioned it, Aoba never really asked what Koujaku did all this while. He trusted his Knight, and he knew his parents did too, so he didn’t feel the obligation to be monitoring every one of Koujaku’s action and simply let him do whatever he deemed was necessary.

“I do a lot of inspections too,” Koujaku continued, reading the question in Aoba’s head. “as a normal person, just like what both of you intend to do right now.”

“Do you really?” Aoba gaped.

“That’s the best way to understand the people. Isn’t that the reason why you decided to head out as one of them today?”

There was absolutely nothing that Aoba could hide from Koujaku. He probably already figured it out even before Aoba tried to explain himself.

“No matter what you say, I’ll be around. You can just pretend as if you don’t know that I’m watching. I’m a Knight,” Koujaku said, ruffling Aoba on the hair before he turned his back towards the both of them. “I need to protect my Prince.”

“How smooth,” Noiz muttered under his breath as Koujaku walked away to check the coast. They’d retreated into the room, preparing to change while they figured out how to wear the foreign clothing the right way.

“Hey, don’t get jealous now,” Aoba teased. “He means well.”

“I know, that’s why it pisses me off.”

Even if Aoba had millions of questions he wanted to ask, he swallowed all of them down, recognizing that this wasn’t the right time to be asking more questions than necessary. It took them a while, but they got it right in the end. Koujaku was already waiting for them at the end of the corridor, head peeking out of the wall, an obvious sign of vigilance.

“Wear your hoods up,” he demanded, voice low. Aoba and Noiz did as they were told, pulling the hoods up and covering half of their heads. Their clothing were simple – a light-blue blouse of cloth graced Aoba’s body, fastened by belt round his waist with an overcoat of thick woollen material falling from his shoulders and concealing most of his torso. The short woollen trousers was something he’d never worn before; it was both a refreshing and exciting experience. Meanwhile, Noiz had a maroon robe over his white blouse, which he had the hood over his head, as instructed by Koujaku. The leather of his boots wrapped his legs, outlining his thighs perfectly as heavy belts tightened around his waist. He didn’t seem at all comfortable, even more so when he was hiding himself from view, as if he was a criminal in a country that wasn’t his.

“I’ll lead you out,” Koujaku whispered, shooting them a quick alerting backward glance before he took one step out of the wall. “Leave all the talking to me if anyone asks.”

Somehow, having Koujaku to escort them out of the place didn’t seem like a bad idea after all. Koujaku was a first-ranked Knight in the castle; no one would dare to cross his line. And sure enough, most people merely walked passed him with nothing more than a bow. Even with the suspicious stares they’d thrown at both Noiz and Aoba, none of them said anything, immediately recognizing the fact that they were under Koujaku’s wings and ultimately sailing them a smooth way out of the castle and right to where the huge gate bordering between royalty and normality lied.

“I’ll leave you now,” Koujaku said once they reached town. The sun was barely up but the town was already very much awake; sounds of people selling their goods could be heard, alongside various noises that Aoba assumed were children running around the place. “But I’ll be around. You know how to call me when you need me.”

Aoba responded by showing what seemed to be a piece of leaf tied to his belt, accompanied by a bright smile that had Koujaku sighing loudly again.

“I hope this experience helps you, however you want it to be.”

“Don’t worry, Koujaku,” Aoba grinned, pulling Noiz closer by the arm and ruffling him on the hair. “I’ll take care of this brat.”

“I don’t mean it that way.”

“Anyway, thanks a lot. I’ll keep myself safe.”

“And I’ll be watching.”

There was no winning Koujaku. Letting out a final sigh, Aoba punched Koujaku on the shoulder, did a brief hand wave that had Koujaku bowing a ninety degrees before he shot an ephemeral stare at Noiz’s direction, then leaving them to be.

“So, where should we start now, _Aoba_?”

Aoba glanced around – they were outside the wall of their castle grounds now, what dignified his attention of the distinctive differences between their life as a royalty and now, as someone who others would perceive as no more than another peasant. Aoba hadn’t gotten a lot of chances to stroll through town yet, let alone taking time to understand the life these people had come to live. He never knew a lot about his people, nothing more than descriptions from his servants. Despite the very passing visits he’d taken in the past few years, he was now completely all by himself, with Noiz.

“Hm, so, when you sneaked into the castle, you don’t pass by here?” Aoba asked out of curiosity.

“I don’t. I use the back way.”

“Oh.”

Well, all the more reason for Aoba to bring him around then. He wasn’t sure if the way his village people worked would be the same as the way people in Noiz’s kingdom did but at the very least, he’d want to give both himself and Noiz a lesson on peasant life. One quick glance around told him enough of the physical, drastic difference between them and his people life – their hut was made of wattle and daub, the roof thatch but with no windows; while they were both used to stay in solid bricked walls with long glass windows and beautifully crafted graffiti on them. He could only imagine how uncomfortable it’d be if he was to stay in this kind of place, which in turn made him feel all the more grief-stricken at how huge their differences were.

“Shall we walk around then?” he said, attempting to push the frustration away before it could get to him.

Noiz was silent throughout the entire time they walked down the road. Passers-by merely nodded at them while they walked; no bowing, no formal greetings. It made them feel slightly awkward at first but eventually, they brought themselves to stop when they found things that’d caught their interest – for one, a stall that sold the biggest varieties of bread they’d ever seen in their life; and for the other, one stall that sold bright colours of what seemed like children toys. It didn’t take too long for them to notice how different their concept of money was either, as compared to these people. They had no reason to spend but the more they walked, the more they felt their money bag lighter and their hands full with baskets of items.

“I’ve never seen these before,” Noiz muttered, bringing one apple to his mouth, biting it with a crunch.

“These are apples, Noiz. Haha, look at you. Hold on.” Searching around his pouch, Aoba pulled a white cloth out and wiped the corner of Noiz’s lips where droplets of water from the apple were flowing, chuckling at the same time. “I wouldn’t believe that you’re a prince if not because of your good looks.”

“I can say the same to you,” Noiz responded, attention fixed at where a mom was feeding a bowl of soup to her daughter outside their hut.

“I don’t look like a prince in the first place,” Aoba retorted, keeping the cloth away and taking one apple out from the basket in Noiz’s hands to munch on it.

“You do. A good-looking one, indeed.”

He tried to ignore the smirk Noiz was throwing at him.

“Oh please,” he grumbled, biting hard on his apple. For reasons unknown, even though apples weren’t anything new to him, he found this particular fruit he was eating way juicier than the ones he used to have in the castle. He was sure that Noiz had apples before, but usually these apples would be cut into pieces, well-served in high-class plates instead of being presented in its original form. It was no wonder Noiz couldn’t recognize it, not to mention how it tasted different eating like this than eating in pieces.

“But our intention here isn’t to eat, alright?”

“Really?” Noiz said in an impassive way, then taking in the final bit of his apple.

“Of course, we need to observe, and to engage.”

“How do we do that? Aren’t your people wary towards strangers?”

“I’m not sure,” Aoba tilted his head, looking around as if to find the answers for himself. “Are your people like that?”

“Very,” Noiz responded, making Aoba felt senseless asking the question in the first place. “Usually they won’t even talk to people they don’t know.”

Noiz’s descriptions reignited a long-lost memory from the past – from when Aoba first visited his kingdom. He remembered how the residents in Noiz’s country threw them cagey stares as they walked by, and how every one of them refused to speak to them until they were being introduced. He’d have the perception that that was how it’d work in every country, that it was simply natural for people to be distrustful towards things they never knew.

Noiz had a point, though. What if it was the same with this very place they were in now? What if the residents here merely gave them cold shoulders if they were to approach them?

That’d make their visit a complete flop.

“Hello.” A small, high-pitched voice broke his line of thoughts. Looking down to the source of the voice, his eyes widened as he caught sight of a little girl with a basket full of breads, one hand holding one of them – one that seemed to be the biggest amongst the others.

“Hey there,” Aoba squatted, coming to the same eye level as the girl – who had her hair braided and bright light-brown eyes that reminded Aoba affectionately of herself – and smiled perkily at her. “How can I help you?”

The girl grinned glowingly at Aoba’s response, her timidity nowhere to be seen.

“Do you want to buy some bread? They are all freshly made! I’ll choose the bigger ones for you. It’s good for breakfast too!”

She was speaking in such an animated, fast-paced tone that Aoba had to take a step back to properly understand what she was trying to do.

“Ah, I see,” he continued smiling. “Of course. Did you make this?”

“My mom did!” the girl grinned wider, then pointing back towards a distance, where a middle-aged lady could be seen stirring a big pot of what seemed to contain liquid food. “She wakes up very early every day to prepare food for us – for _all of us_!”

His heart clenched at the thought. What time did he wake up this morning? And did he even know how his _own_ breakfast was made before he gobbled the lot down his throat?

“How many do you want, Big Brother?” The girl was lifting the bread up to Aoba’s nose now. She must be helping her mother to sell the goods she made while she prepared for more. The thought left a hefty weight in Aoba’s chest, a surge of emotions rushing up to his eyes.

“All.”

Before he could even respond, Noiz had voiced out, forcing him to pause his words at the tip of his tongue.

“Huh?” The girl shifted her gaze to Noiz then, who was standing behind Aoba, looking down into the basket, still with a nonchalant expression.

“All…?”

“Yeah, everything you have there.”

“Noiz!” Aoba stood up frantically, giving Noiz a look of surprise.

“What?”

“What’s with—“

“Ah… _ah_ , thank you so much!” The girl’s voice interrupted them as she could be seen pulling a paper bag out of the small pouch she was wearing round her waist. “Mother would be so happy!”

“Did you manage to sell a lot of bread every day?” Aoba asked, concerned.

“No, everyone prefers to prepare their own food because it’s cheaper that way. But making breads and soups is the only way Mother knows to make money for us.”

It was incredibly hard for Aoba to sustain his emotions so he looked away before he could lose his composure in front of this very girl, letting Noiz handle most of the remaining conversation then turning around just in time to see the girl running excitedly towards the direction of her mother, waving the tiny pouch of money in her hand.

“This will change,” Aoba muttered to himself as he walked down the street with Noiz, carrying the basket of bread that could probably last him for another few weeks.

“What will?” Noiz asked, now munching on one of the smaller bit of wheat bread he’d picked from the basket.

“This difference, this… life,” Aoba responded.

“Why should it change?”

“Don’t you understand?” Aoba halted his steps, shooting Noiz a solemn look while the other stopped too, eyeing Aoba curiously. “The border is too huge. While I wake up every morning surrounded by pure luxury and hundreds of people attending to my daily needs, these people here wake up way earlier than me, struggling to meet their daily ends. Why do I deserve luxury and why do these people have to work so hard for everything? Is it simply because I’m born this way? Is it because these people are born to be peasants that they have to suffer throughout their life? This is so…” he stopped, finding himself losing his breath. “…so unfair.”

All the time Aoba exploded his thoughts at him, Noiz merely stared, without a single word. Then, while he waited for Aoba to calm down, he leaned closer towards him, licking him on the cheek, effectively distracting Aoba before he sneaked his hand down to where Aoba’s hand was and intertwined their fingers together.

“Let’s go,” was all he said before he started walking down the lane, bringing Aoba together with him.

“Huh? Where to?”

“We’re done here, right? I think we’ve seen enough.”

It was late evening when they found themselves by a lake. Small ripples of wave broke the shimmering peace of the water surface when they found a comfortable spot to settle themselves on. The idyllic scene allowed a momentary pause in between them, the atmosphere undisturbed by wind or rain, immersing them in a startling state of eureka. Aoba never knew that this very place existed in his own country, and it astounded him on how Noiz managed to locate this place without his knowledge.

Reading the question on his face, Noiz inched himself towards Aoba, resting his head on top of Aoba’s head before he wrapped an arm around him.

“I found this place when I was sneaking into the castle one time,” he said, without Aoba asking.

“You have to pass by here to reach the castle?”

“Every time. I’ll show you the way later. But, anyway,” he let out a quick smirk. “I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while now.”

His response elicited a small sigh of relief from Aoba. Sure, the scenes that he’d seen in the village distressed him, but at the same time, he could undoubtedly see how peaceful and how happy his people were, despite the pugnacious situation they were placed into, completely out of their own will.

Everyone had their own struggles. Despite being showered with extravagance every day, the consequence to it was having Aoba to bear a heavy shoulders of responsibility; each decision he made could potentially destroy the country and each step he took was a consideration to his people.

“Don’t think too hard,” Noiz kissed him on the top of his head. “Let your mind rest just for a bit.”

“What do you think about the place, Noiz?” Aoba asked instead.

“Me?” Noiz let out a small chuckle. “I think you’re doing a great job with your country.”

“Really?” Aoba doubted. He didn’t do much, he really didn’t.

“It’s something I would never accomplished with my own,” Noiz confessed. “Seeing the tussles your people are going through isn’t too much of a bad thing for me. In fact, I’d prefer carrying the burden of happiness for people who are close to me over for thousands of people who are not affiliated to me.”

Aoba snorted. He’s got a point there, he couldn’t argue with that.

“Besides, I think that’s what I’ve been doing all this while now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I only care about you,” Noiz answered, completely blunt.

Aoba lowered his head, heat rising to his face. This was what he’d mentioned to Noiz about being unconcerned to his country affair and spending too much time bonding with Aoba. He thought this spontaneous trip down town would make him realize how much burden he actually bear but…

“But I understand what you’re trying to say now,” Noiz interrupted his thoughts. “There’s nothing to do with what I’m born with. But I guess, at the very least, I could do what I’m good at. Well, just so if I can wipe that melancholy face out of you, that is.”

What…?

“I’ll think of something,” Noiz said in conclusion. “But for now,” he looked down, meeting Aoba’s elevated gaze. “let’s not think about it first.”

It’s been a heavy day for the both of them, being in a situation where they were both unfamiliar with. While Noiz caressed his hair, he simply let him be, listening to the serene sound of bird chirping in a distance and the ruffled noise of swaying leaves.

“Hey.” Noiz’s low whisper almost made him jump. “That leaf you keep.”

“The one Koujaku entrusted to me?” Aoba asked, already reaching to where he kept the emergency tool Koujaku had relentlessly reminded him about.

Noiz nodded. “What can it do?”

“Oh, you never heard about leaf music before?” Aoba sat up, coming face-to-face with Noiz, an amazed look gracing his features.

“There’s no such thing in our place.”

“Aha.” A click flicked in Aoba’s head. “Well, it’s your lucky day, brat, because I’m in a good mood today for some leaf music.”

As if attempting to give him an answer, Aoba pulled the leaf out from his belt, flattened it a tad and bringing it to his mouth. A wary gaze at Noiz later, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and clipping the piece of thin leaf in between his lips.

The tone was remarkably beautiful, swirling Noiz into an immediate state of serenity at its first tone. It was clear as sky, clean as wings, and possessed a subliminal mean of peaceful and calm that ultimately had him closing his eyes, in hope to immerse himself more in this beautiful melody.

He wasn’t sure if it was because Aoba was the one playing it or if it was the melody itself that had put his mind into a state of tranquillity, and he didn’t even notice when Aoba had ended his short-lived performance, only coming back to himself when Aoba ruffled him on the hair.

“How was it?” There was obvious self-conscious in the way Aoba asked him, gaze wavering, voice trifling. But Noiz elevated a smile at the corner of his lips, pulling Aoba over to kiss him on the forehead.

“The most beautiful tone I’ve ever heard in my life.”

He could physically feel Aoba’s face gaining warmth when he said that. Driven by complete raw impulse, he lifted Aoba’s chin up, hitting his gaze with a penetrating one of his own before he leaned in and kissed him on the lips, a gesture that only turned all the more passionate with every passing second.

They stayed there for a few more minutes before Aoba stood up, patting the grass off his pants then stretching a hand towards Noiz, a clear sign of departure. Noiz would’ve insisted to stay longer if he hadn’t realized how dark the sky had turned now. Koujaku was right; despite how safe this very country seemed to be, there would always be a risk to threats, and having _both of them_ being harmed at the same time, especially at a critical time like this was the last thing anyone wanted.

So they took a few hasty paths and strolled back into town, was about to head back the direction where they came from – back to the castle – when they heard a familiar voice calling out to them from afar.

“Big Brothers!”

Both of them turned at the similar pace, and both of them were surprised to see the little girl from before marching speedily towards them, bringing along her mother.

“Mother wants to thank you for your generosity earlier!” the little girl beamed.

“Thank you so much for buying everything this morning,” the middle-aged lady said. She looked like one of the kindest person Aoba had ever met, her eyes a mirror of her daughter’s and causing him to return her smile with a genuine one of his own. “It’s all thanks to you that we could last for another week. This means a lot to us.”

“Ah… It’s really nothing, you’re welcome,” Aoba answered gracelessly, scratching the back of his hand with a bitter smile on his face.

“Thank you so much to you too,” the lady directed her appreciation to Noiz, who had been quiet for a while now.

“It’s fine,” Noiz replied simply, earning himself a nudge in the rib by Aoba.

“Mother, aren’t they good-looking people?” the little girl exclaimed, pulling on the mother’s hand.

“Of course,” the lady smiled. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before, though…”

Aoba hitched a breath. Crap, they were being too careless. Regardless of how well they were to prepare themselves, they were still Princes and the last thing he needed was to create an uproar in the place, inviting unnecessary attention to themselves.

“I-I think you might have gotten the wrong person,” he said, averting the lady’s gaze. But the more he did that, the more suspicious he turned out to be and before he knew it, the lady clapped a hand against her mouth, having cold sweat running down Aoba’s spine straightaway.

“You’re Prince Aob—“

Preparing for the worst, Aoba gulped down his throat, no longer had any courage to face what was to come next.

But nothing came and when he turned to look again, he found himself gaping, completely unexpected of the turn of event.

“It’s about time we return, my Prince.”

Koujaku was standing by their side, an elegant smile gracing his features as the lady and the girl gawked at them.

“Y-yeah, we’re about to do so.” Did Koujaku just give them out, though?

“So sorry you have to witness tis pathetic state of our Prince, my Lady. They’re out for a quiet stroll today,” Koujaku smiled at the lady. “And how are you doing, little one?”

“It’s okay, Sir Koujaku,” the lady returned her composure and lifted an earnest smile at the trio as well. “It’s a huge pleasure to be able to meet Prince Aoba and… Prince Wilhelm, was it?”

Noiz nodded, eliciting a wider smile from the lady.

“And it’s a bigger pleasure to know that the Princes like the meal I prepare.” She sounded as if she was almost in tears but when she spoke next, Aoba knew instantly that those tears were for a different reason. “Honestly, it’s been pretty hectic lately thanks to the rumours of war, but now that I’m seeing how well Prince Aoba and Prince Wilhelm are getting along now, I’m very relieved. I believe everything would be fine, as long as it’s you, Prince Aoba.”

There was this very tangled sense of emotions Aoba was feeling within him now that he couldn’t properly explain. Swallowing the feelings down, he shook his head, walking towards the lady and grasping her hands in his.

“I’m sorry, I’m not the best Prince you’re looking for. I’m sorry you have to live through the days in this state.”

But all the lady did was giving Aoba a surprised look, then a chuckle before she patted Aoba on the hands.

“I remember when I first saw you, you were this… small child, following your father and mother while you looked around the town. At that time, I thought ‘ah, this young child would be the next ruler of this country, would he?’ and since that time I’ve never doubted your ability. I’ve heard a lot of things about you, Prince Aoba. And now that I’m seeing you personally like this, I’m even more confident that _you_ would be the ruler this country needs. Please don’t blame yourself for the things we have to go through. It’s what gives us a purpose to live. And we know how tough it is for you to have to carry the responsibility for the whole nation. You deserve all the luxury for thinking about us, and all we hope is to be able to support you in any way, if you ever require.”

Now _Aoba_ was the one who was at the verge of tears. In an attempt to conceal his pathetic expression, he looked away, grasping harder on the lady’s hands before he finally mustered enough strength to speak,

“Thank you. I’ll try my best.”

And perhaps, that was all that his people ever wanted from him – not a ruler of the country, but _Aoba_ as the ruler of their country.

 


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only one can survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale... supposedly.  
> I have added another chapter to ease reading because this chapter has become a bit too huge and information overloaded so I decided to split it.  
> Apologies for the long wait, this story is coming to an end very soon and as with every other one of my multi-chapter stories, it's yet another story that's hard for me to let go :')
> 
> I hope you enjoy this as much I enjoyed writing it! <3

Noiz was never a King; at least that was what Aoba thought. He was nothing prince-like, even. He had the looks, sure. When he spoke, he sounded perfectly casual with Aoba, a behaviour Aoba knew was nowhere near to how he acted when he had a throne on his head. For the longest time, all Aoba had seen from Noiz was this man who was younger than him, who was also reckless, yet thoughtful all the same.

Noiz was... amazing. He lived life as if there's nothing he needed to worry about, as if everything was planned for him and that everything he needed to do was to put on a mask and perhaps mutter a quick yes even without the need to understand what was happening.

It was something that'd troubled Aoba for the longest time ever - Noiz's dismissive self, the fact that he knew nothing about Noiz, let alone his country.

There nights when he'd stay up late, pondering about their future, wondering if the path he was walking on at the moment was the right route he'd chosen for himself. He never knew what Noiz was thinking about, despite them growing up together.

And he never knew if Noiz was even concerned about his own country. He never knew if he was setting up a trap for him.

He never knew a lot about Noiz.

At times like this, he'd find himself staring at Noiz when they shared intimate sessions with each other, wondering if every ounce of expression Noiz was showing him was all mere acts. Was he wearing a mask just like he did for his own country? How much does Aoba mean to him? Who was Aoba to him? Was he just another Prince to Noiz? Just another man? What kind of lens was Noiz using on Aoba?

Whenever he was to let his thoughts flow, Noiz would often pick the most appropriate time to inch towards him, enveloping him into an embrace as he patted the back of his head, for reasons unknown.

And whenever Noiz was to do that, he'd always allow himself to fall prey to the nostalgic warmth Noiz showered upon him, wanting to believe that everything was merely an effect of him overthinking.

When Noiz asked him which he'd choose -- his happiness, or his country -- he'd told Noiz that he'd choose his country any time and Noiz had told him that he was lying to himself.

\-- which was true.

How would he rule a country if he himself wasn't happy? Was it destined for him  _not_ to be happy after all? Or was it something else entirely?

Noiz was great with silence, and he was great with breaking the silence. But oftentimes, they'd simply allow each other to indulge in each other's warmth, allowing the silence to stretch comfortably -- and allowing the truth in their heads to sink slowly into their veins.

As time passed by, he found himself wondering a lot about their pasts out of his own conscious mind. He remembered when Noiz was young, he'd lean against him, acting totally like any other teen while they spent time doing everything and nothing together. Back then, there was no pressure, nothing much for them to consider like what they were facing now. They could see each other whenever they wanted, they could spend time together as long as they wanted. There were no political concerns, no taboos they should be mindful of, no heavy weights that spelled of war and borderlines on their shoulders. The day when Noiz confessed was still one of the fondest memories he'd never want to forget. He watched as Noiz kneeled, lifting his hand in such an elegant way that had Aoba starting to believe that he was, indeed, a Prince. It was then that Aoba noticed that they were more than kids now, that Noiz was growing up and that he was such a  _beautiful_ person that'd let Aoba in mild awe. He knew that he'd become a great ruler simply through the way he brought himself; his innate quality had told Aoba so, regardless if he was to obey to this very quality of his or not.

He couldn't quite explain how he'd managed to see through Noiz like this. Perhaps it was his Prince hunch, having the royalty blood flowing in him himself. But when he ultimately leaped into his then-childhood-friend, now-boyfriend's embrace, scrambling with the endless 'yeses' spilling from his lips, he knew that the person he fell in love with was Noiz; not a Prince -- just Noiz.

 

* * *

 

 

 

They hadn't been seeing each other for a week ever since they'd parted ways. Noiz told him that he'd do something about the situation and Aoba trusted him. He wanted to. He let him off, gazing at his disappearing back as he walked out of his country, launched himself onto his white horse and galloped his way back to his own nation. Since then, there were no news about him; none at all. it was terrifying Aoba. He wondered if Noiz had finally shown his true colours, that all this while he was merely trying to deceive Aoba into falling for him so that he could attack him when he was left in the most devastated emotionally state?

But Aoba remembered the gaze Noiz had given him when they made promises with each other, when Noiz embraced him with nothing but pure affection, and when he kissed him with lips filled with intense want that had Aoba sweeping the doubts away.

He trusted Noiz. Even when his nation had started preparing for war, even when Koujaku approached him and tell him that a declaration had been made, and even when his parents were already seeking out refuge for where they could keep their people safe, he wanted to believe that Noiz wasn't the person who'd declared this confrontation. He wanted to believe that Noiz was fighting in his own way -- to protect his nation,  _their_ nation.

The thought of having to fight Noiz just three days from now crushed his heart in such a vividly painful way that he buried his head into the pillow, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, and only looking up when he heard soft knocks on his window, almost causing him to jump off his bed.

"N-Noiz...?"

A silhouette stood on his balcony. It was vague, but Aoba had known Noiz too well to recognise him in an instance.

Scrambling out of his bed, he hurried towards the window, letting out a relieved smile when the moment he spotted Noiz's familiar lime-green pair of eyes alongside his curved smirk that he pushed the window wide open, allowing entrance for the other man.

"Noiz!" he exclaimed under his breath. Noiz jumped his way into the room in featherlike motion, landing gracefully on the carpeted floor of Aoba's room before he straightened himself up, turning around to face Aoba, who was wearing a wide grin on his face, totally out of his own conscious.

"What are you--" His words stopped in midair upon noticing the state his boyfriend was in: fresh wounds cut along his arm, blood dripping from the opened scar, smearing the carpet with darker shades of red.

"Shh," Noiz hushed, pressing a finger against Aoba's lips. "I barely escaped, they might know I'm here soon."

"What happened?" Aoba asked, voice urgent. He escorted Noiz to sit on his bed, then scurrying away with an intention to find bandages when Noiz grasped onto his wrist, pulling him back.

"It's fine, don't mind that first," was all he said before he lurched towards Aoba and pulled him into a heated kiss. It was desperate, hungry, and Aoba could feel just how much he  _wanted_ him at this very moment as he straddled onto Noiz's laps, allowing Noiz to devour his mouth over and over again.

"N-Noiz..." he panted, closing his eyes. He  _missed_ Noiz; he missed him  _so much_ \-- he missed every inch of his skin, his fervour, his voice. Everything.

“I missed you,” Noiz said between breaths.

It's only been a week, yet they felt as if they hadn't been seeing each other for a year.

"I missed you too," Aoba elevated a weak beam. He cupped Noiz's face, gazing into his eyes then pressing a kiss on his forehead. "I'm so worried about you."

Noiz pulled himself away, his gaze glimmered feebly, a reflection of the moonlight. It was then that Aoba noticed fresh bruises on his face, something that he'd never seen in his entire life.

“Noiz, what is—“

Noiz buried his head against Aoba's chest then, visibly stopping Aoba from talking. He was clearly troubled, but he seemed as if he was having difficulties trying to tell Aoba what as in his mind so Aoba simply let him be, caressing the short strands at the back of his head as he rubbed gentle palm along his back, the silky material of Noiz's white shirt a comfortable sensation against his skin.

"The security in your nation has become tighter," Noiz said at long last; he spoke so quietly that Aoba had to strain his ears to capture everything he said.

"We're preparing for war after all." Every single word he uttered pricked him in the heart.

War -- against Noiz.

“We shouldn’t even be meeting like this,” Aoba continued, letting his thoughts run free. “If anyone is to catch us…”

"They nearly did," Noiz said, lifting his head higher to kiss Aoba on the nose. "Sneaking in has become far too dangerous for me."

"That's how you've gotten these cuts...?" Aoba trailed off, gently yet carefully tracing the scar on Noiz's hand, the dampness he instantly felt on his fingers making him wince.

“Your guards are aggressive,” Noiz chortled. “He nearly caught me, though.”

“He…? Oh.” That could only be one person. “Did he see you?”

“I think so,” Noiz said. “But that’s not the point now, isn’t it? I’m here to see you.”

Noiz never needed to face any obstacles when he sneaked into Aoba's room before. But now, a mere visit with a genuine, simple intention to meet Aoba had turned into a journey full of thorns. His heart did a tight squeeze; this was wrong, everything was wrong. They shouldn't have started this relationship in the first place. If they remained as normal Princes, not boyfriends, Noiz wouldn't need to sustain these injuries that were so incompatible with him. 

Noiz, a prince, being treated like a criminal in a country he didn't belong in.

"It's fine," Noiz reassured, rubbing a playful thumb along Aoba's backbone to bring his attention back. "I just want to see you," he repeated, leaning in to sniff on Aoba's nostalgic scent all at the same time.

"Noiz..." Aoba called out. He buried his face into Noiz's hair, smelling mud, blood, and the struggled he'd faced when he made his way here. Their meet up was never forbidden in the past but now, it seemed to be something so betraying that Aoba needed to step back and remind himself again that nothing was set in stone until the war came to an end.

His guilt was at the brink of betraying him, though. Does this mean that this could possibly be the last time they'd meet each other in this way? The next time they were to meet, they'd be  _enemies_ , in a war zone, and there was no way they'd be able to call each other their lovers again. They'd need to fight each other until one of them fell and surrendered.

Aoba would never surrender his nation to another without putting up a fight, physically or not. But he could never fight Noiz either, whom he'd come to acknowledge as an important existence in his life.

If this very meeting they're having now meant to be the last for them, then...

Swallowing his suffocated sorrow down his throat, he cupped Noiz's face, lifting it up so that they came eye-to-eye with each other. He inched himself closer, nuzzling their noses together, then kissing him softly on the lips, feeling him returning his pecks - gentle, careful, as if they were handling each other as glasses in their arms.

He kissed Noiz on the cheek, brushing his lips against where the bruises were, kissing his way down his neck, sucking, nipping, then raising his arm and trailed a wet peace along his bone, until when he reached where his blood was still dripping that he stopped, eyeing the scar with a mystified look on his face.

“Don’t,” Noiz said, completely perplexed by Aoba’s gesture. “It’s ugly.”

 _Nothing_ of Noiz's was ugly. It was the same as what Noiz had once told him before -- that  _nothing_ of Aoba was ugly, nor dirty.

Attempting to demonstrate that very point, he leaned towards the wound, poking his tongue out and gave his blood a light, experimental lick.

“Ugh,” Noiz sighed, visibly surprised by what Aoba had just done.

"Does it hurt?" Aoba asked, casting an upward glance just to gauge Noiz's expression as he licked against Noiz's wound again.

"...A bit," Noiz murmured, but Aoba knew that wasn't why he looked so astounded. He was  _amazed_ himself, for doing something so suggestive like this to another person, being a Prince himself.

“Pain, pain, go away,” he mumbled against Noiz’s skin, kissing, drenching his lips with fresh blood.

Noiz patted him on the head then, causing Aoba to send a curious look at his direction before he was urged into a sitting position on Noiz's laps.

"What’s got into you today?” Noiz smirked. “You’re more… daring?”

Aoba shook his head. He  _knew_ what'd gotten into him tonight. His head was playing tricks at him, his emotions overwhelmed him. He was so afraid of losing Noiz that he was at the verge of tears.

"If I drink enough of your blood, do you think that would make me one with you?" he asked, surprised at how shameless he sounded, at how unintimidated he'd become for another man.

Noiz perked a curious eyebrow, before his features were replaced by a mischievous smirk.

"You want to become one -- with me?" he whispered hotly, inching closer to Aoba's face with every new word he spoke.

Aoba averted his eyes. “It’s not as literal as you spelled it…”

But Noiz understood, he knew Noiz understood; their mutual understanding no longer needed any verification from body languages and words.

It's as if they're  _really_ sharing the same mind now.

“I know what’s in your mind,’ Noiz said, confirming it. “But I’ll tell you what I told you before – I’ll figure a way out.”

 _What exactly?_ Aoba wanted so much to ask him that very question but he was swept into a mystified sort of kiss before he could, drown into a delayed fervour that both of them very much needed.

He wanted to believe that there was no deception in every ounce of affection Noiz was pouring on him now. He was genuine, as raw as Aoba knew of him. He loved him with every ounce of his being; he'd known him since forever and there was no way he could picture a future without Noiz.

Was there really a way for him to solve this commotion? What _exactly_ is Noiz plotting?

“Don’t think too much,” Noiz hushed, a phrase he’d been telling Aoba for the umpteenth time. “Just focus on me at the moment. Please.”

He'd never heard Noiz pleading this way before. Nodding, he shut his eyes, encircling his arms around Noiz's neck and allowing Noiz to lower him onto the bed, their lips still attached with each other the entire time their motions rode their minds.

All that he could feel was Noiz's warm breath against his skin, Noiz's coarse skin texture embracing every inch of his body and Noiz's tender kisses that was driving him into a bliss. Noiz had always been thoughtful of him, but today, he could sense a vague hint of impatience in his actions that almost caught Aoba in tears, simply knowing the reason behind them.

He hitched a breath when Noiz undid his garments, helping Noiz out of his own at the same time. And when Noiz stood up on his knees, all prepared to indulge in Aoba's lust, Aoba sat up, pushing Noiz back into a straightened-up positions with a small curve on the corners of his lips.

“Allow me,” he said, in a tone thick with formality, yet filled with subtle naughtiness all the same.

While Noiz pondered, Aoba crouched, pulling Noiz's dick out of his pants, feeling the hardness of its tip rubbing against his nose as he wrinkled at the thick scent.

“Stay still, alright?” he said.

“I don’t remember taking orders from a Prince, though,” Noiz mocked, something Aoba had been all the more familiar with.

"You'd have to this time if you want to feel good," Aoba retorted. And without waiting for more response, he took a mouthful of Noiz's dick into his mouth, pressing his teeth along his shaft and evoking a strangled moan out of his young boyfriend when he did as much as biting a bit too hard.

Oral was never something he was used to be doing. Noiz was always the one who'd do it for him, all the while emphasising that Aoba should't be doing too much work and that he should leave everything to him. But when the strong scent of Noiz invaded his nostrils, he found a profound urge of need running down south, building at his pit, then his dick. He pushed Noiz's dick in and out, in and out of his mouth; clear actions that suggested of mild inexperienced but when Noiz's breathing got heavier, then heavier, with every new thrust he gave him, he felt an immense sense of gratification that'd replaced every single bit of his uncertainties.

"What a view this is," Noiz panted, twirling the ends of Aoba's hair as Aoba took his dick in over and over again. "A prince, taking in another prince's dick in such an enthusiastic way."

Aoba released Noiz’s fully-hard dick with a loud, vulgar pop, frowning as he sent a glare in Noiz’s direction.

“You’re no Prince, you’re just a brat,” he said, before returning to lick the precum off the slit of Noiz’s head.

Noiz seemed like he wanted to say something. He caressed Aoba's tenderly on his cheeks, then pulling his own dick out of Aoba's mouth before pushing him back to the bed. He was about to spill his first word when they heard loud knockings from the door, freezing every one of their motion.

“Aoba?”

Aoba froze, his heart skipped a beat.

"If you don't answer him, he'd think that you're in trouble," Noiz whispered dangerously into his ear, his hand sneaking downwards, finding Aoba's dick.

"K-Koujaku?" Aoba struggled, his body trembled out of reflex when Noiz flicked his finger around his head, rubbing his thumb along his slit as a mean of tease.

“Are you okay? We received reports that someone had sneaked into the castle grounds.”

They must meant Noiz.

 “I’m—mph!”

Noiz had chosen that specific moment to press his fingertip into Aoba's slit, causing Aoba to hold his hand up reflexively to obscure his moans. He shot a warning glare at Noiz's direction, but all Noiz did was smile before he leaned towards him to kiss him on the cheek.

What is he thinking, seriously? Aoba grumbled inwardly.

“I’m fine!” he shouted at the door.

"You sure?" Koujaku was his childhood friend and his Knight for a reason -- he must have noticed that something wasn't right but yet he was wandering between the hesitation to question Aoba more about it or to simply let it go.

“Yeah,” Aoba responded, sounding just a bit less brash. “I’ll need a lot of rest today, can you…ah…”

Noiz twiddled with his nipple, kissing it lightly on the tip and encircling the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, pushing Aoba into a sense of uncontrolled arousal.

For a long while, there was nothing but silence; Aoba simply allowing Noiz to worship his body, preparing him, completely immersing himself in the wondrous atmosphere Noiz was luring him into. He needed this; days of worrying had worn him out, and now that he had this very person right by his side, he should savour the moment as much as he could, because who knows this might  _really_ be the last time they could make love with each other? And he definitely didn't want the last time they could do this in the presence of each other to turn out to be a disaster.

“Aoba.”

He jumped when he heard Koujaku's voice again. He thought he'd left. Noiz stopped all of his actions, having two fingers inside of Aoba, seemingly interested with what Koujaku had to say.

This was pretty… frustrating.

"Aoba, I know you're listening," Koujaku said. He didn't sound as demanding as how he was previously, rather, he sounded gentle, like the tone he'd usually use on Aoba when they were in each other's privacy; when their line between a Prince and a Knight was blurred. "And I know you're having a lot of agitations with the war that's coming soon."

None of them said anything. Noiz locked eyes with Aoba, who responded with an equally curious stare. Both of them knew what was coming and Aoba wasn't even sure if Noiz should be here to listen to what Koujaku had to say.

"I know how deeply involved you are with the brat too," Koujaku continued, casting formality completely aside. "You're a kind Prince, Aoba. You would do anything to defend your country, wouldn't you?"

All of a sudden, the guilt that had been lurking deep within him attacked him in the guts. Nothing of what Koujaku had said was wrong, the only problem was -- he was stuck in between two very important choices and he was still hesitating between the angel versus demon debate in his head.

He _didn’t_ want to choose.

"I'm not here to tell you how to make your own decision. But," even from beneath the door, he could tell how Koujaku was struggling to find the right words, as if he was the one struggling between the two decisions. "I wish you would choose the route that makes you happier. You didn't choose to become a Prince, but now, you have the chance to choose which route fits you better and frankly," his voice raised just a tad higher, emphasising his point. "I think this is the perfect opportunity for you to reconsider your path. What say you, no?"

Aoba was already in tears at this point. His heart hurt; it was squeezing him from the inside. But Noiz was kissing the tip of his nose again -- nothing too aggressive, just tiny pecks, lips pressing softly against lips.

"Thank you, Koujaku," he mumbled against Noiz's lips, letting out a loud moan when Noiz started thrusting his fingers in and out of Aoba again, continuing from where they were before Koujaku interrupted them.

There were no more responses from the door; Koujaku must have left for real now, leaving behind this overwhelming wave of emotions that was attempting to swallow him alive form the inside. It was easier said than done --  _how_ to choose was the ultimate question he always had towards himself whenever someone was to tell him this; first Noiz, now Koujaku.

"He said the right thing," Noiz said at long last, pulling his fingers out and positioning his dick against Aoba's hole, hands pressed against Aoba's thighs. "You are only human, you have to choose how to live your rest of your life because no one would do it for you. But now, your happiness lies with  _me_ and I want your to only think about me, at least for tonight, okay?"

Noiz was right. There was absolutely nothing he could do at this very moment, when Noiz was so ready to push himself into him and he was so ready to be engulfed into another night of intense pleasure.

Regardless what his decision would be, he would never want to regret not thoroughly feeling the fervour both of them were sharing at this very moment.

With a smile, he reached down, finding Noiz’s dick and pushing it against his own hole, slowly guiding it in.

“Come, Noiz,” he said, voice as sweet as honey, gaze as feverish as fire. “Make me yours.”

The world around them could crumble, they could find blood all over themselves as they struggled to survive, to find a place to belong.

But now - they belonged here, in each other's arms, and Noiz's punctuated thrusts, alongside his contrastingly gentle kisses had told Aoba enough of how much they were ready to sacrifice for each other when the time called for it.

 

* * *

 

 

He sent Noiz off the next day, making sure that his wounds were well-treated before he witnessed him leaving his room through the window, in apparel common enough to be perceived as a commoner. He sighed at the dawning sky; the day had just started but yet, he was already feeling his heavy weight beneath his chest that was making it hard for him to breathe.

Feeling lightheaded, he collapsed onto the bed, submerging himself in the deception of comfort that was the softness of his mattress when he heard the usual knocking sound on his door.

“Come in,” he said without a second thought. It must be one of his servants, approaching him to prepare him for the day.

He sat up without a look at the person walking in, taking his shirt off and laying it by his side, waiting.

“Aoba is as defenseless as always.” A voice resounded, followed by a few small chuckles.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sound, but it made Aoba turn so hard he thought he almost snapped his head.

“Sei!”

Standing at the foot of his bed was his twin brother, Sei, who was well-dressed in his usual royalty wear and who was wearing a gentle smile that Aoba had already more than familiar with.

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked, inching towards Aoba and sitting by his side.

“N-not at all!” Aoba said, frantic. He wasn’t expecting Sei, especially not when he was currently experiencing one of his lowest moments.

This was the worst time to be seeing Sei – the one person who could see through him in a heartbeat.

“You could really use some defense mechanism, you know?” Sei smiled, eyeing Aoba from head to bottom. “You have blood here.”

“Ah.” Oh crap. He was lucky that _Sei_ was the one who’d noticed it.

“Not yours, right?”

Sei was as sharp as ever, even though he didn't look like it. Averting eye contact, Aoba rubbed the stain hastily, only stopping when Sei placed a hand on top of his, his gaze all the more intense.

“Is he okay?” he asked, and Aoba didn’t need more verification to know exactly who he was implying.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “Just a few scratches. I’ve treated them.”

“Not on the face, right?”

Aoba shook his head. “The limbs.”

Sei smile lifted higher. “That’s good to hear. I bet no one wants their King to have a horrid scar on his face.”

He knew Sei wasn't going to confront him for meeting Noiz in private; he himself had been supporting Aoba and Noiz's relationship all this while. But there seemed to be a different, unnatural air he was emitting that'd told Aoba that simply asking how he was doing wasn't the true intention of him visiting him so early in the morning.

“Sei,” he called out, finally gathered enough courage to look his brother in the eyes. “Do you have anything you want to tell me?”

“Do _you_ have anything you want to tell me?” Sei retorted instead, causing Aoba to gape, wide-eyed.

“Me…?” he reiterated.

Sei nodded. “I’ll listen to anything you want to say. You know it.”

But did he have anything he wanted to tell Sei? All this while, he'd been keeping things within himself; he thought that it was his own responsibility and own decision to make and that he shouldn't be involving others in this agitation of his. But Sei's question suggested otherwise -- his brother was genuinely trying to help him, and perhaps, he'd been waiting for Aoba to spill the one request he himself was too afraid to did as much as suggesting it.

“I…” he started, his sentence jumbled in his head, his fingertips shivered against the mattress.

“Hm?” Sei urged, inching closer, leaving no space for Aoba to avert his gaze.

“…” He hadn’t made up his mind. And he still wanted to trust Noiz.

This shouldn’t be the time to make this decision yet.

So, he shook his head, responding with a bright smile at his brother’s direction.

“Nothing. I think I have everything under control at the moment.”

His answer evoked a suspicious stare out of Sei, something he'd expected. He still had his hesitations, sure. But this wasn't the time to be staggering when he was so dreadfully worn out. He felt as if any decision he was to make now would only be a result of helplessness and it was definitely a huge wonky contrast compared to how Noiz acted in such a composed manner.

"Really?" Sei asked. When Aoba nodded again, he let the silence between them stretch for a few moments before he released a sigh, patting Aoba on the head. "I would never think otherwise of you."

Aoba responded by leaning towards him, supporting his head on his shoulder and closing his eyes with a quiet hum.

“I’m fine, Brother,” he said, an intent to assure. “I won’t be defeated by a mere obstacle like this.”

Sei hummed, grasping Aoba’s hand with both hands and leaning his head against his brother’s head.

“I know. But I really want to help. And the least I could is to take the throne in your place.”

Aoba jerked up, his eyes brightened as if he’d just realized something.

“S-so that’s what you intended to draw out of me,” he gasped.

Sei merely smiled brighter. “It’s still not too late to request.”

Aoba gaped. Then, he pulled himself slightly backwards, shaking his hands in front of his brother’s eyes.

“No, no, no, no way! I can’t push all the responsibilities to you, not something so heavy!”

Sei chortled. "Aoba is always such a nice child. But this isn't pushing responsibilities. This was  _my_ responsibility from the beginning. I'm the older child, after all. And I was supposed to inherit the throne, but..." He frowned, the smile vanished fro his features as he lifted both his hands and pressed them against his chest. "Thanks to this sickness, you have to carry the weight for me..."

“Brother,” Aoba mumbled before he gripped Sei’s hands, like how Sei did to him earlier.

"I've said this before and I'll say it again: I want to protect you and this country and I'm more than happy to be given the opportunity to do so. Besides, you had been helping me out so much throughout these years while I learned to become King, no? I wouldn't have don't it if not because of you."

All Sei did was chuckling at Aoba before he patted him on his head again.

“Aoba is _always_ a nice child.”

“And a nice child needs to get himself ready now before he gets scolded by his parents for being late,” Aoba responded with a sneaky grin.

And with Sei being his lone company in the room, he raised himself off the bed and started to get himself into cloaks and robes, his spirit now lifted higher than when he woke earlier.

 

When he walked into the dining hall with Sei, his parents were already seated, clearly waiting for them. He sped up, sinking into the chair right beside his father before he smiled.

“Good morning, Father, Mother.”

“What did we say about formality?”

His mother pouted at him; the Queen of the nation looked nothing like one. She looked like the most common person one could easily find on the street, while his father -- the King -- looked simply like a Prince rather than a King.

"Well, it's manners to greet in the morning," Aoba grinned bitterly. Lavish food laid across the table, guards stood at each of the exits in the hall, and while the table was huge, the hall equally so, there were only four of them, the only family they had.

“She finished her breakfast and went off for gardening,” Nain, the King, said, picking up his cutleries at the same time. “She waited too long for you.”

"Ah... Haha..." Aoba chortled, scratching the back of his head.

His Granny was one of the strictest mentors he could ever had. While the other hired mentors feared to lay their hands on him, his Granny was the complete opposite. She'd smack him on the head when he was procrastinating, and whenever he was to commit any faults, his Granny would also chase after him, lecture him for long hours then putting him to bed with contrasting gentleness that had Aoba confused for a long time.

He knew that his Granny always had him in good heart, and he knew that all these strict education was bound to bear its fruits – which he was right, after all.

If it wasn’t for his Granny, he was sure that he wouldn’t grow to become the determined, strong Prince he was now.

Perhaps he could talk to his Granny after this, he thought as he munched on his food.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been speaking to Granny since war was declared. He was constantly immersed in his own thoughts that despite the frequent meet-up for roundtable discussions regarding the upcoming confrontation, he seemed to be shutting himself off, with no one knowing exactly what was in his mind.

“Aoba?”

He was mindlessly indulging in his breakfast when his mother called out to him, causing him to almost choke on his food.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? I’m… I’m fine,” he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin.

Nain and Haruka shot each other a momentary look. When Aoba looked at them, smiling, both of them sighed at the same time.

“Do you have anything you want to tell us?” Haruka asked, her voice tender, her expression equally so.

It was the same question Sei had been asking him. Did his parents intend for him to abandon his throne too?

“I’m not going to step down,” he replied, assuming so. “I’m a Prince. And I’ll fulfil my responsibility until the end of this war.”

There was a transitory silence in the room where everyone’s eyes were on Aoba. At long last, Nain smiled, stood up, then walked towards Aoba where he placed a hand on Aoba’s shoulder, urging Aoba to look up at him.

"Regardless if you're a Prince or not, for all I know, you're our son," he said. He definitely sounded like a King now; a level which Aoba could hardly achieve. "I wouldn't want my son to go through any hardships at this young age of yours. We know that you've been struggling for a long time, but regardless of what your decision is, please know that we won't judge you for anything. Besides," he paused, just to give Aoba a cheeky grin, one that was often reflected on Aoba's own face. "I like that kid, I wouldn't mind having him as my third son."

He meant Noiz. Heat rose to Aoba’s cheeks. Averting his father’s gaze, he dived clumsily into his meal, merely stuffing food into his mouth without tasting them.

"We'll try out best regardless," Nain returned to his usual tone, leaving Aoba's side and returning to his seat. "Protecting the country is undoubtedly our responsibility, but protecting our son holds the same weight. It's a tough balance for us too, but I know that the people of our country would understand, and we want you to understand too."

It was hard looking into his family’s eyes after that.

They touched nothing about war matters after the meek conversation. Once he uttered his dismissal, Aoba walked out of the dining hall, into the corridor, stopping just for a while to gaze out of the tall, mosaic window. It was indistinct thanks to the texture of the glass; he could barely see anything. But he could make out the peacefulness of his nation and how everyone was trying to live their life as fulfilling as possible. He released an unintended sigh. He'd been sighing too much lately. His heart felt heavy, occurrences between him and Noiz repeated unceasingly in his head. He knew that everything that was happening now was against Noiz's will as well and he'd come to mind himself that Noiz told him that he'd have everything figured out like a mantra of assurance.

But had _he_ figured things out? Noiz might have come out with a resolution but Aoba was clearly still on the fence, pondering, with the very little time he’d left.

> What would you choose – your happiness, or the happiness of your nation?

It wasn't even about winning or losing this time; it's about his own dignity. Regardless of what decision he was to make, he was sure that it'd hurt him badly. He didn't want to be a betrayal to neither the person he loved nor his entire nation. But yet... it was a decision he had to make and he was running out of time.

Wandering mindlessly, he came to the garden, eyes brightening when he saw a familiar shadows in a far corner. Gulping down his throat, he paced slowly towards his Granny -- the one mentor he had ever since he'd come to make sense of things around him.

“Good morning, Granny,” he said, gracelessly.

Tae, the once Queen of Midorijima, merely gave Aoba a quick backward glare before she went back to trimming the sunflowers, leaving Aoba to stand around awkwardly.

“T-the weather today is—“

“I’m sure you didn’t come here with the intention to talk about the weather, aren’t you?” His grandmother cut him off, still not looking at him.

“Ah… haha…” Aoba chortled an inelegant laugh.

“You made up your mind?” Tae asked, sternness still evident in her tone, but the vague gentleness had returned to it, pulling a smile out of Aoba.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he said, completely frank.

While he sat on a stool, not far from where Tae was treating the flowers, he let his mind wander, weighing the pros and cons, contemplating the possibilities.

“No one will blame you for anything,” Tae said, her voice complemented by the sound of scissors cutting the branches. “You’d be the only one who would do so.”

Aoba nodded. He knew how blessed he himself was. And the last thing he wanted was to betray everyone’s trust.

“I just need to get over myself,” he said under his breath, staring at the ground, watching as ants trailed a path along the edge of the pots.

But then, a rough smack on his head had him looking up, massaging the spot where he was hit all at the same time.

“Ask yourself – what is your most desired decision?” Tae stood with a deep frown on her face. She’d just hit him on the head with her hand, and Aoba was suddenly grateful that it wasn’t the scissors in her other hand that had made contact with his head earlier.

“I…” he stuttered. What did he _really_ want? “I just want no war. Peace. That both of our nations are in good terms.”

“What happens if war _does_ happen?” Tae asked, her question pouring on Aoba without allowing Aoba a second to breathe.

“I wish we could have a draw, and we could make promises, conditions that could allow both of us to work towards peace. It might be forceful at the beginning, but if that’s how things had to be done, then so be it.”

He stared at his grandmother at the last of his words, tension budding within him, fearing that he’d answered her questions inaccurately. But all Tae did was smiling at him before she left, returning to her plants.

“Granny…?”

“You already have your answer there,” she said. “I’m sure brat has the same answer too.”

It was then that Aoba realized that he _really_ needed a smack on the head for him to figure things out for himself. And how much he valued his grandmother’s presence, despite how vague it could sometimes feel.

 

* * *

 

 

He had absolutely no contact whatsoever with Noiz throughout the three days when they were preparing for war. At night, he'd lean against the window, where Noiz used to appear from, and wonder if Noiz had his resolution made the same way as he did. He had zero clue on what Noiz was planning to do. Noiz would tell him if he was to ask, but there's no way he'd do so. He didn't want himself to prey on the bond he'd built with Noiz just so he could sneak his way into playing the upper hand of this war game.

Noiz must have figured this part of his out too, and that’s perhaps why he didn’t tell Aoba either, despite the many times Aoba had portrayed hesitance.

It was no surprise that Aoba was hesitant anyway. This wasn't a decision he could easily make. Unlike Noiz, he was way more attached with his family and the people of his nation. Of course he'd hesitate. But what awed Aoba, and perhaps even Noiz, was the fact that Aoba perceived Noiz to be on the same level as his entire nation and his family.

He'd never answered Noiz's question -- " _Regardless of what happened, our relationship would not change, right?_ " -- fearing that it'd be a promise too impossible for him to keep.

But as he gazed out of the window, one night before the war, knowing that Noiz was gazing at the same sky as he was, he smiled.

He’d known the answer forever. And tomorrow, he’d tell Noiz upfront:

The answer he’d owed him for the longest time ever.

 

He'd never spent so long preparing in his room before. He'd gotten up extremely early, barely had any sleep thanks to his rampage thoughts and now that he was fully awake, he found himself surrounded by servants, who helped him to dress through layers after layers of armours. Koujaku stood and watched the entire progress, his expression stern, his attentiveness towards details way more tedious than Aoba remembered him to be. And when they were finally done, he pulled Aoba back into the room before he could leave, dismissing everyone else and finally allowing them the privacy they never had for a long time.

“I know what you’re about to say,” Aoba voiced out before Koujaku could even utter his first word. “I’m not turning back.”

"You don't need to be on the battlefield," Koujaku said after a soft sigh. He knew what Koujaku was implying -- seeing Noiz, and above all, having to  _fight_ him would probably hurt him more than any physical wounds he could potentially get.

Aoba shook his head. “I want to. I want to see through all of these with my own eyes, fight through this with my own hands, and end this with my own presence.”

His eyes glistened with nothing but pure determination, forcing the remaining retorts down Koujaku's throat. He locked gaze with Aoba, having Aoba to do the same before he placed both of his hands on Aoba's shoulders.

“I cannot promise to protect you out there. A war is merciless, especially so when the Prince himself is in the war zone.”

Aoba raised a hand and placed it on top of Koujaku, gracing a smile on his face.

"I know. I've been informed of it. But what does a King mean to his warriors if he does not lead them?" Giving Koujaku a hug, he continued, choosing his words the most careful and appropriate way. "I want to play a part to protect my nation. This is what being a Prince is, isn't it? You have been protecting me all this while, Koujaku, and I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have you as my Knight."

They allowed their hug to linger for a few moments before they separated. Koujaku kneeled, one hand across his chest as he held his knuckles against his heart, another hand reaching out of Aoba's, who let him take his hand into his.

“I’ll continue protecting you, my Prince, as a Knight, but more importantly,” he paused, just to raise a smile at Aoba’s direction. “As your childhood friend.”

Aoba chuckled. He waved an elegant arm around Koujaku, ultimately landing his palm on his head, a signal of acceptance.

“That’s all I need to hear,” he said at long last, helping his Knight up and giving his own armour one final look-through before the both of them paced out of Aoba’s room, along the corridor, heading towards the main door of the castle.

His armour felt heavy on his body, his heart equally so. Every step he took felt as if he was dragging a heavy stone that was tied to his leg. He was very much confined within a shell that was meant to protect him and he was certain that no one weapon could pierce through those sturdy material of his suit. His hair was tied into braids, a helmet on top of his head as he held a sword that was passed down to him by his father, a symbol of royalty warrior.

This was the only day when he felt like a Prince. As he was greeted by cheers from his people, he smiled, waving at them, trying to assure them that he had everything under control and that he’d return the peace everyone yearned for in no time. The walk towards the border between Midorijima and the opposing country was a long one but he held his head high regardless, all the while steadying himself on his black horse, Ren, as he kept his vision firm ahead.

He could already see the sea of soldiers in front of him, taking the form of black sea, knowing that he had his own wave of soldiers behind him. As they came closer, he swallowed down his throat, sweat beading all over his back and on his forehead until he saw a familiar figure leading the opposing team of soldier that he stopped his steps, coming face-to-face with the army.

Noiz was wearing the impassive features he was so used to. Dressed in heavy armours, rode on a white horse, his army all ready to strike behind him. It was a long moment of torturous silence when Noiz lifted a smirk, taking Aoba momentarily aback before he mirrored the same smirk, nodding at Noiz, signalling the start of war.

The sky was painted red, screams echoed in the battle zone.

On this day, two kingdoms fought – and one would fall.

 

 


	4. Noble Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sacrifices are necessary for bigger happiness.  
> But are they worth it?  
> If not, _what_ should be the equivalent for happiness?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally done with this story ;v;  
> I'm sorry it's been dragging for so long. I intended this for a quick write but i kept getting good plot lines the more i wrote it and before I know it, here it is, a story that's longer than i wanted it to be.
> 
> Regardless, thank you for joining me on this ride and thank you for being part of this journey. I hope you enjoyed it and hope you have a great day! :)

The weight of the throne is heavy.

The weight of armours he was outfitted with equally so.

But none of those were was heavy as the weight he conceded in his heart. Every footstep he took made him feel as though he was carrying the weight of iron with him. This was no time to be doubting. But yet, here he was, staring at the long aisle heading towards his throne, towards an indefinite future between freedom and restraint.

What is freedom? What is happiness? He never knew the answer to any of those.

 _Aoba_ was the one who’d eventually given him the answers – and how much he deserved them.

 _Aoba_ was the one who’d painted the colours into his twofold world. He was the one who’d told him what being a true King was like. He was Noiz’s best living example.

Yet, three hours from now, he’d be facing Aoba on the battlefield – not as friends, not as partners even, but as _enemies_.

After spending a good half an hour scrutinizing his throne, he walked out of the room, smiling to himself.

Once everything came to an end, there’d be peace – no more wars, no more struggles.

Just them.

 

“Brother, you’re here.”

He stopped his pace, looking around just to see his brother, Theo, hurrying towards him.

“Thought I might find you here,” Theo panted, rushing up to him before he started walking again.

“I’m done,” Noiz said, tone as dismissive as usual.

“I know,” Theo responded with a grin. He was, like Noiz, robed weightily in armours, his lime-green pair of eyes glinting elatedly, a direct contrast to Noiz’s.

Noiz said nothing after that. Merely walking down the wall in silence, he allowed Theo to follow by his side, waiting for him to spell out the very intention he’d approached him with.

“Brother, about what we talked—“

He cut him off before he could finish whatever he wanted to say.

“I’ve made up my decision,” Noiz said, voice cold and firm. “This is my responsibility. It’s something I want to do.”

It’s also something only _he_ could do.

Theo remained quiet, simply walking by his brother’s side before he spoke again.

“But to see you and Aoba-san…”

Noiz smirked then. He halted in his tracks, turning around just enough to give Theo a flippaing look.

“It’s what we’ve decided upon,” he said. Shifting his gaze to look out of the window, he paused, staring at where Aoba’s kingdom laid. “I know he’d agree with it.”

No conversations were exchanged between them; they knew nothing about what each other was about to do with today’s war. Bounded by rules their ancestors had determined for them even before they were born, all they were doing at this very moment was to carry themselves forward, bearing the weight of their nation and bearing the anguish of having to fight each other on a battleground that did not belong to them.

There was no turning back after today. There was nothing that could be discussed between them; they’d figured out each other’s thoughts on nights they spent staring out of their windows, gazing at the same moon. No discussions were needed, no words necessary; because both of them were longing for the same thing after all – faith.

With that, the rest would then fall into place naturally.

“Brother…” Theo called out. Noiz budged his attention back to him again, startled to see that he was still beaming at him.

“Don’t make such a face,” he smiled, trying hard to make it look at natural as possible.

But all Theo did was lurching towards Noiz, hugging him hard, the sound of clanking metals that was their armours resounded brashly in the vacant corridor.

Noiz patted Theo softly on the back of his head, caressing the soft texture of his hair before he said,

“You will have to take care of the place when I’m not around,” he said, voice small, sounding almost like a whisper.

“Does it really have to be like this?” Theo asked, trembles palpable in his voice.

Noiz released an unintended sigh, feeling the weight returning to his chest.

“There’s no other way.”

He pulled himself off Theo, chortling at the disarray of his brother’s face before he wiped the tears off the corner of his eyes with a thumb.

“It’s a decision that I need to make,” he repeated.

And, without another word, he turned his back towards his brother, steadying the helmet over his head, and walked towards the main gate leading to the beginning of a new era.

 

A war is triggered when conflicting sentiments are not taken into proper deliberation, hence leading to destructive resolutions. But there are also wars that are evoked from confined mind-set and disputing principles, a contradicting way of doing things. There’s nothing both Noiz and Aoba could blame but their own origins. They weren’t given a choice to where they wanted to be born into; their birth a curse to each other, their existences putting them to tread on a consistent tightrope. Regardless of how much they never wanted to be part of these upheavals, the decision lied not in their hands but in the hands of the authorities, of obligations they were imposed upon – everything that was decided for them before they could walk their very own paths.

There was no way he could overlook Noiz’s picturesque, strong pair of lime-green eyes, complemented by his signature smirk that was one of the first things Noiz had enchanted him with when they first met. Noiz was a natural King. Aoba had been repeatedly telling him that. Regardless of what decision he was to make, he’d respect it, support him, and believe that it was all for the better good. All he needed to do was to grow and be the King his people were looking up to, even though Noiz had been unendingly telling him that nothing would ever replace Aoba on top of his priority list.

But even until the very last time they’d met, he never knew of his resolves, or if the mere fact he’d been emphasizing all this while had properly sunken into him.

Cold sweat travelled down his spine when he caught sight of Noiz’s very grandiose appearance from over the sand field. He looked like a Knight, like a King, but above all, like a person who held absolutely no hesitance, all ready to strike the final blow at him.

What if he’s defeated today? What if he has to surrender his nation after this war?

Would everything to well according to his plan? To _their_ plan?

Is Noiz bearing the same thought as him?

He swallowed down his throat, his heart beat stridently in his ears. Every ounce of his veins was pounding vehemently, tension swarmed him, threatening to overtake his entire being. He could feel his insecurity creeping all over him but a hand on his shoulder ultimately pulled him back to his senses as he took a deep breath, looking Noiz right in the eyes when suddenly…

Just suddenly, every other trembles within him vanished into thin air. Noiz was _smiling_ at him; not the smirk he’d always wear but he was actually _smiling_ , as if telling him not to worry—

\-- telling him to _trust_ him.

“Today, we are here,” Aoba started, breaking the intense silence between two waves of armies. “to put an end to the contradictions between us and your very nation.”

He took a short pause, just so his words could reach every other member present loud and clear.

“And after today, regardless of which party is to win, we declare no battles, no struggles, and no more disturbance towards the life of our people.”

A loud roar echoed from behind him, an explicit sign of support towards their Prince.

Noiz took a few moments simply fixing eyes with Aoba, waiting for the noise to subside. Then, lifting his own smirk, he said,

“We hereby agree to your war declaration.”

Everything happened in the speed of lightning; spirit of soldiers split the sky apart, horses scattering their way onto the turf. All that they could hear were screeches of combat, of sacrifices and of struggles they never asked for. Aoba was skilled in his own way; he’d received rigorous trainings from Koujaku as part of his daily endeavours. He cut his way through the colossal fighting with no hitches, his target clear, his eyes fixed right ahead, without losing sight of the very figure approaching closer and closer to him, seemingly having the same intention as he was now.

The frontline was all sand and dust, parched under merciless sun. Every soldier’s life was put at stake, their dignity thrown onto the field just so they could protect their very own belief. Blood flowed like river, corpses filled the sand field. Aoba witnessed all of these, his heart clenched at every sight of a fallen warrior. But this was precisely why he must not give up now. He must not lose tie, he must be quick, and he only stopped when he finally came face-to-face with Noiz.

Their time stopped. They were surrounded by ruthless battles but there was an uncanny flow of solitude between them, unobstructed when they locked eyes, throwing each other smirks that they were already so familiar with.

“You look good. Wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” Noiz said. Sweat trickled down his cheek as he sat on his white horse, his sword back in its sheath, defence completely thrown aside.

“I say the same to you,” Aoba raised his grin higher. He _was_ a born Prince, after all. Even when he was robed in heavy armours with most of his features sheltered under the metal veils, there was no way he could obscure the royalty aura he was radiating so cripplingly now.

The tension between them heightened with every passing second, their gaze locked against each other, unswervingly determined, and yet, the insinuation of tremors was still too evident for each of them to miss, squeezing their hearts the longer they were to look at each other. Then, at the same time, they pulled their swords out, pointing at each other’s chest, as if they’d communicated through their eye contact alone.

“I’m sorry,” Aoba said. “I’m a Prince. I need to do this for my country.”

Noiz released a sardonic chortle. “Likewise.”

Their bodies moved as if the mere seconds of discourse was a second declaration of war between themselves. Blades slashing against each other, sparks emanating from their clashes, their motions fast and breath-taking. It was easy to tell that both of them were indeed proficient fighters, both of them well aware of how strong their rival was. As they swung their blades at the other’s direction, they could already tell where they were aiming at, avoiding every single attack like it’s the most natural thing to do. Every slit was assertive and unforgiving, cutting scars through each other’s bodies without a single cringe. By the time they stopped to catch their breath, they were both covered in blood, red fluid trickling down Aoba’s forehead, reaching his chin and mingling with his sweat. Noiz was slashed on the arm, a deep cut ran along his ribs. He was panting profoundly yet still wearing his conspicuous smirk, a powerful hint of the refusal to admit defeat.

If there was one thing that was harder to withstand than the physical pain they were sustaining, it was the emotional agony they were going through as they read each other’s resolutions in their eyes, knowing that everything would soon come to an end.

They wished they were wrong, hoping that they wouldn't need to take this very step that they’d _need_ to take in the next minute.

But they weren’t wrong; the blades stabbing through their chests had told them so, the tremendous pain they were feeling right on their skin was the best answer.

His mind was smeared in a transitory sense of void. He couldn't remember when he’d fallen off his horse, his sword still firmed in his hand. He lied on the floor, clutching onto his sword as if his entire life depended on it, and when he no longer had the strength to do so, he blinked the blood out of his eyes, attempting to find a sign of Noiz then lifting a weak smile upon noticing that Noiz was just… right by his side.

He mustered all the remaining energy in his body to crawl closer to Noiz, dragging blood as he went, dragging along the weight of Noiz’s sword in his body with him. His sword was plunged deep in Noiz’s chest, blood gushed like running tap water. He pressed a powerless palm against it, his head fell and rested against Noiz’s chest. Blood surged from his insides; he tasted metal on his tongue, then feeling great rush of it making its way out of his mouth. His world was dimming, he was losing himself, he could no longer hear anything.

Then, he felt a hand on his cheek, caressing tenderly and gently, the touch so nimble he thought he was imagining it.

And before he knew it, he was tumbling into darkness, pain overwhelmed every part of his body.

He could no longer feel the touch on his skin.

But he was gratified – because this was the ending he wanted.

The ending _both_ of them wanted.

 

* * *

 

 

The war ended with a tie.

Grief coursed with every expelled breath. In the watery light of dawn, the graveyard was as cold as its owner, the gravestone as white as the crystalline snow. Sei ran his finger over the black-graved lettering, coldness of the marble glazed the inch of skin he made contact with. Somehow the feel of the stone brought him peace; it felt beautiful and smooth, as beautiful as the man laying beneath this very graveyard. The magnitude of despair in his eyes must be vast, many must have wondered. But no, he was grateful; thankful that _he_ wouldn't need to return, finally being able to lift the burden off his shoulders.

On the same day, same time, two nations lost their Kings. No one ever predicted this outcome, no one but the successors of both the kingdoms. The two countries fell into anguish, their initial disputations that were the reasons of the war long gone. The Kings and Queens were devastated, having tasted the consequences of losing what really mattered to them. The deaths of the Princes had given them a hard-hitting, forceful slap in the face, bringing the two nations together and ending the long tussle of battle at long last.

After Sei, now King of Midorijima, was done with his daily visit to his brother’s grave, he took casual steps back to the castle, entering the castle ground to warm and bright smiles.

 _This was what Aoba wanted_ , he thought to himself. _This was the peace he sought for_.

Every corner of the place reminded him of his brother. He remembered the pot of _bonsai_ he and Koujaku planted in a small corner in the garden. He remembered the small hole he’d dug under the big tree, a place where he kept all the broken items from his childhood that were in danger of disposal. He remembered Aoba standing by the corridor every morning, staring out of the castle window, his expression serious and heavy. He remembered how his brother would immediately smile at him the moment he spotted him, telling him that he was fine and that there’s nothing to be worried about.

He remembered everything of Aoba. Aoba was in every shadow of the castle. He’d left too many memories around that forgetting about him was no longer possible. He was an influential Prince, a Prince that people of Midorijima would never want to forget, despite how he might think otherwise.

He stopped for a bit, staring around the vacant corridor. He missed Aoba, not Prince Aoba, but his brother, whom he could always see through in a whim. He missed catching Aoba off guard and seeing him pout. He missed seeing how Aoba could be so enthusiastic with his trainings, how he led his army, how he spoke with confidence like a real King.

He missed all the time he’d spent with Aoba, a man who’s so sincere, so pure, and so precious that no other man he’d ever met could ever replace his position in his heart.

His legs led him naturally to the Main Hall, where he’d always visit after he left Aoba’s grave. But today, a visitor had decided to drop by earlier than him. He smiled out of reflex, walking unhurriedly towards him then joining him to stare at the two enormous portraits lined up notably against the wall.

“They’re amazing,” the visitor said, eyes locked on the two portraits.

“They are,” Sei agreed. He looked at Aoba’s portrait – [he was slanting against a huge black Knight chess piece, wearing his finest royalty attire; beautiful feathers embraced the top of the hat he was wearing, the white silkiness of his long coat complementing the delicate tight-fitting vest, alongside long white boots that did nothing but bringing out the sleekness of his body posture](https://68.media.tumblr.com/a3fc4ac81a8c4f24ff5a79de16468090/tumblr_nv0fuydBu11u8whdfo1_r1_500.png). Every single gesture of his sophisticated and natural. But what had always captivated Sei was the glint of light in his eyes, the small curve of smile on his face, an expression that made Sei feel as if he was telling Sei that everything would be okay, that this was what he wanted. His heart did a tight clench, tears accumulated at the corner of his eyes before he shifted his gaze to the portrait beside Aoba’s.

“Noiz was an amazing Prince,” he muttered, voicing his thoughts out loud. “I wouldn't have expected him to do that.”

“I did.” The man by his side turned to look at Sei, his lime-green pair of eyes lustrous with unambiguous faith. “He didn't tell me exactly that he was about to do what he did, but I could somehow feel it from the way he looked at his throne before he went into the battlefield. Probably it’s because of some sort of… brother hunch, I guess? Didn't you feel the same with Aoba, Sei?”

Sei smiled. If there was one thing he was grateful for, it was the fact that he was able to come into closer term with the now-King, Theo, from the nation they were once opposed to. He was nothing like how he once imagined him to be – in fact, he was perfectly benevolent, unpretentious, and absolutely outspoken, a direct contrast to Noiz.

“Indeed.”

“That’s why we’re brothers after all,” Theo grinned. He returned to stare at his brother’s portrait. “Thanks for putting this up here too.”

“They belong with each other,” Sei said without a second thought. Noiz’s portrait was a undeviating mirror to Aoba’s, bearing his signature smirk as he leaned against a white Knight chess piece, his attire an elegant sleek black, his head held high, his body language confident and graceful.

They looked like the most perfect couple in the world.

“We have Prince Aoba’s portrait up in our Main Hall too. Everyone has so much respect for hi—or rather, for _them_.”

“I bet,” Sei chuckled. “It’s because of them that we finally realized how wrong we once were after all.” His voice turned small at the end, finding it harder to speak. All the memories that they once shared were crystalizing themselves in his head again. This was the worst time to be breaking down. Not in front of Aoba, not in front of Noiz, definitely not in front of Theo.

“Feel free to visit us anytime you want,” Theo said, as if noticing the gloominess of the atmosphere. “I’ll make sure to hold a feast for you.”

Sei chortled again. “I guess you’re here for the pact discussion?” he quickly switched the topic, hoping that it’s enough to wipe the melancholy off his mind.

“Yup. Since I’m early, thought of dropping by here.”

“Well then, shall we make our move?” Sei said. He took one last look at the portraits, smiled and nodded at them, then led the way out of the Hall, with Theo following closely from behind.

 

The walls separating between the common and the royalty were broken down. Roads were paved between two nations for easy access, pacts were signed out of mutual respect and agreement for resource sharing. Things had changed with the loss of their Princes; but things were definitely changing for the better. As more pacts were signed, farms had grown, people were happier, resources shared between the two nations resulted in sufficient need for every household to feed their families.

It was the start of a better future that had pulled broad grins on both Theo and Sei’s faces when they gazed out of the castle window.

“I wish Aoba and Noiz could witness this with us,” Sei said under his breath. The air was clear, the long morning shadows distinct. The sun shone luminously, creating ripples of glitters on the surface of ponds below the castle grounds.

“They would,” Theo said. “They had seen this when they’d decided on what they’d done anyway.”

“You’re right,” Sei agreed. “This is indeed the future they wanted to see.”

Birds chirping interfered their conversation, calm breeze brushed past their miens.

There was absolutely nothing that could suggest another confrontation – peace had arrived, and it should be maintained. Everything looked like the perfect ending.

\-- except that both Sei and Theo was wrong.

This wasn't the ending both Aoba and Noiz wanted to see.

This was not the end of the story yet.

 

* * *

 

The pacifying, clear melody flowed through their veins and swirled in their heads, soaring through the air like an eagle on an up-daft. There was something about the vibration that was making them feel so heavenly, as if smooth liquids were seeping right through their skin.

He propped his head against the other man’s arm, humming silently to the melody with closed eyes. Wind brushed past them with feather-light cues, bringing with it a sense of peaceful solitary they never thought they’d experience at this age of time.

When the tune stopped, he opened his eyes, just to see the man he was leaning against staring at him, the piece of leaf he’d used to craft the melody placed steadily by his side.

“How was it?” the man asked, inching close to him and kissing him tenderly against his cheek.

“Hmm, I guess you’ve gotten better,” he said with a smirk.

He was expecting a retort, but their solidarity was soon disturbed when they heard echoes of rustling bushes from behind them, urging them to turn around just in time to see a third man pushing his way out of the woods.

“Aha… didn't realize it’s time already.”

“Aoba,” Koujaku called with a frown, his arms crossed. “I’m starting to get worried.”

“Sorry, I totally forgot about the time,” Aoba said with a bitter smile. He stood up, patting the dusts off his pants then extended an arm towards the other man’s direction. “C’mon.”

Noiz was quick to draw a smile before he took Aoba’s hand and stood up. With their hoods up, they walked towards Koujaku, who was eyeing them from head to toe.

“Nothing happened?” he asked.

“What could happen?” Aoba grinned. “It’s peaceful times now, Koujaku.”

“Still,” Koujaku countered. “If anyone ever knows that you’re still ali—“

“They’d know very soon then,” Noiz interrupted without looking at Koujaku.

“What?”

“Ah, let me explain,” Aoba was quick to cut in. “Well, we… thought that it’s about time for us to return.

Koujaku froze in his steps, staring at both of them with a gape.

“You mean… going back to the castle?”

“Uhuh,” Aoba nodded. “We’ve deceived them enough. And seeing how things are right now, we think it’s safe to return.”

“We can’t be hiding forever,” Noiz added. “It’d be worse if someone finds us out before we could turn ourselves in.”

“But…” Koujaku hesitated. Leading them out of the woods and towards the outskirt, he continued. “Are you sure?”

“Nothing will change,” Aoba assured. “We don't intend to snatch the crowns off our brothers’ heads. But we also feel that they – our family – and our people deserve to know the truth.”

Koujaku remained quiet, considering the possibilities. As they arrived at what seemed to be a small cottage near the border of Midorijima, he voiced out.

“I’ll adhere to anything you’ve decided.”

“Thank you, Koujaku. As usual,” Aoba beamed.

“That’s if you’re perfectly fine with it,” Koujaku added with a quick look at Noiz’s direction.

“We’ve done what we intended to do,” Aoba said. Nudging Noiz with an elbow, he continued. “Right?”

Noiz shrugged. “Whatever he said.”

“If that’s your intention,” Koujaku responded. “I’ll make the arrangement then.”

“Koujaku,” Aoba called out before Koujaku could take his leave. “Thank you, I really mean it. Don’t overdo it, we only wanted a humble return.”

Koujaku’s rabble-rousing stare told Aoba that whatever they had in their minds wasn't on the same wavelength after all.

“Understood, my Prince,” he said with a small bow, hands pressed against his chest. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, you might need to prepare for your return. I’ll come and get you in… two days’ time.”

“Sure,” Aoba agreed. “We’ll be ready by then.”

As he watched Koujaku’s back disappearing down the street, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him backwards until his back hit Noiz’s chest.

“Hm?” he hummed, chuckling lightly when he felt Noiz’s faint breath against his neck.

Noiz said nothing. Merely clinging onto Aoba, he pulled them both into the house, closing the door behind them and immediately planting a kiss against Aoba’s lips while he pinned him against the wall.

His hand sneaked inertly to his chest, stroking the soft spot beneath his shirt. This was the exact spot where he’d thrusted his sword towards, leaving behind a scar that’d never heal. The mere scene still haunted him in his sleep. Some nights, he’d wake up drenched in cold sweat as the very scene of him pushing the blade right through Aoba’s chest reiterated in his head. He could still feel the warmth of blood splattering on his bare skin, hearing small gripes Aoba had released as he smiled at Noiz, as if telling him that he’d done well. He felt pain on his own chest but he was way too distracted by the way Aoba had fallen from his horse to care about his own ache. He wanted to touch him, even though his hands were soaked in _his_ blood, and apologize to him, telling him that despite whatever he’d done, he’d never let him go.

Not alone.

Aoba was still smiling when they were both on the ground, struggling to keep themselves awake. The surrounding sound was muted, all they could hear was heartbeats of their own, pumping slower with every passing second.

But this was all planned. He’d known that the resolution was mutual since he saw the answer in Aoba’s eyes when they set eyes on each other on the battlefield.

The only thing was – they never anticipated it to be _this_ excruciating.

He couldn't quite remember what happened after that. When he woke up, he was already lying in this cottage, with Aoba right by his side, peacefully asleep.

“ _I’ve taken care of the necessary_ ,” was what Koujaku had told him when he dropped by a few minutes later. It was then that Noiz was informed of all the plans Aoba had shared with Koujaku before they plunged their heads into this war. He never knew of the extent of discussion Aoba had with his Knight but when Koujaku glared at him, telling him to leave the rest to him and that all he needed to do was to focus on taking care of Aoba, he decided to trust him, even though this Knight wasn't his to begin with.

Aoba slept for two whole days. Despite not being fully healed himself, Noiz could still walk around the place, dress himself well enough to be able to disguise the villagers, and sensible enough to be able to sit by Aoba’s bed, feeding him liquid food and cleaning his body for him. Whenever he was to share quiet moments with Aoba, he’d be involuntarily reminded of the possibility that he might have accidentally stabbed Aoba in the wrong spot that had caused him such stretched pain.

There was nothing much he could do. He kept himself up-to-date of anything that was happening to their nations, relieved to know that everything was progressing as how both he and Aoba had planned and telling Aoba every detail that he was informed of, telling him not to worry too much now that peace had arrived.

Then, on the third day since Aoba fell unconscious, he woke up when Noiz was struggling with potatoes in the kitchen. He was drenched in sweat from head to toe, deep frown embracing his features as he fought with a potato in his hand and a knife in another, just to jump a tad when he felt someone hugging him from the back.

“Good… morning…”

He felt as if he hadn’t been hearing Aoba’s voice for a century. Aoba’s head was pressed against his back, his hands firmed around his chest. Putting the knife and potato aside, he turned around, coming face-to-face with Aoba and releasing a smile of relief upon realizing that Aoba was perfectly awake and… _alive_.

“Good morning,” he said, leaning in to kiss Aoba on the lips, which the other returned in a whim.

Three days felt like three years. But it didn't matter how long he’d waited. What mattered was that Aoba had returned to him now – like he always did.

Six months after, he was now facing not a Prince, but a commoner, as he slipped his hand under Aoba’s shirt and touched directly on where the scar was imprinted on his skin. Aoba let out a strangled moan between their kisses, his own hand wandered to where Noiz’s scar was on his chest.

“Are you still thinking about it?” Aoba asked as soon as they separated their kiss.

Noiz nodded. “I still get dreams about it.”

It wasn't like Aoba hadn’t been noticing anything either. The number of times he’d woken up to Noiz trembling in his sleep and the number of times he had to wake him up to comfort him had been a routine to them.

And it wasn't like he’d forgotten completely about what happened six months back anyway. Whatever Noiz felt was what he felt. Perhaps the only reason to why it didn't leave an after-effect as hard as it did Noiz was due to the very fact that he was so occupied with Noiz’s wellbeing that he’d completely put his own as a lesser priority.

Besides, this was Noiz’s first time being out of his usual heavyweight shield, living a completely _normal_ life after all.

In these six months, they lived life like any other commoner. Aoba taught Noiz the most basic of cooking, he also taught him how to mend his own torn clothing, and how to appreciate every tiny element in life as much as he did Aoba.

It was the very purpose of them faking their deaths after all. If they were to hold the responsibility to rule a country, this would definitely be a much needed experience for them. And it seemed that both of them had come to agree that the clashing between the two nations served as the best opportunity for them to kill two birds with one stone.

“It’s fine,” Aoba said, grasping Noiz’s hand on his chest. “I’m fine now. This will stay with me forever but it’s not exactly a bad thing.”

It’s something Aoba had been reminding Noiz of for the longest time ever. Nodding, Noiz crouched, kissing Aoba’s scar then lifting a smile at his direction.

“We should prepare,” he said simply, catching Aoba off guard.

Well, he was expecting something _more_ but obviously Noiz had learned how to control his instincts better now that he was being pushed out of his own comfort zone.

Koujaku would come and escort them back in two days’ time. They didn't know what he had in mind, but regardless, two days was all they had to pick themselves up and return to who they really were – as Princes of their own nations.

 

They were once Princes who’d never set foot beyond their own castle grounds. They were used to stepping on marble floors, on stair rails that were carved and polished. They were used to walking pass family portraits painted in oils and hung in gold frames. The air was always fresh for them, food was always served precisely on time, never did they need to worry about starving. But as they stepped out of the cottage, perfectly dressed in their royalty wear and staring at the sea of guards forming neat lines outside of their house of six months, they knew that they were no longer the same Princes they were from half a year back.

They now knew how it felt to step on grass and mud, how they’d need a ladder just to climb on top of the roof. They knew how it felt to wake up to smoky air and how they’d starve and suffer on empty stomachs as they cooked food for themselves.

They now knew of how it felt to be _normal_ , to be part of _human_ , not being exclusive, and to live life like how their own people had been doing for the rest of their life.

They were now more than just Princes. They were also commoners, who had now come to understand the importance of actually _living_.

“Prince Aoba, Prince Wilhelm.”

Koujaku took a step towards both Aoba and Noiz, his posture steady, his smile resolute.

“Representing the people of two nations, I hereby humbly request for your return to the castle, to allow us to serve you, to protect you, and to guarantee your happiness for the sake of our nations and for your own wellbeing.”

He ended by kneeling a foot in front of both the Princes, with the sea of guards behind him following suit.

Aoba stole a look at Noiz, and after a nod, he stepped towards Koujaku, waving a swift gesture above his head as a sign of acknowledgment before he bowed and supported Koujaku to stand up.

“Thank you,” he said. “And would you allow me to serve my people, to protect them, and to guarantee their happiness on the same eye level as they do, with no differences between us, with no borders, no ranking?”

He paused, allowing his speech to sink into every other person present until when Koujaku nodded and bowed at him that he returned it with a genuine smile of his own.

“Of course, my Prince. We’re honoured that you have us in the best of your heart at all times.”

With that, loud cheers exploded, endless incantation of “ _Welcome home, Prince_ ” engulfed the sky. Walking was hard, but it was tougher for them to sustain themselves upon seeing the joy and tears on their people’s faces. Now, they were walking on the same pace as their people; there’s no longer a need for boundaries, for status, and they’re more than happy to shed their titles if allowed.

It was when they saw the faces of their families, their _brothers_ greeting them from the main gate heading towards the castle grounds that Aoba finally broke into tears, feeling that he was finally home at long last.

It was the era of peace now – and nothing mattered more than that, not even the mere fact that they’d once almost lost their life for this very peace they were experiencing now.

 

_` You cannot choose how you were born, but you can choose where you want to head to.` _

 

He remembered his grandmother told him this when he was small, when he still listened to bedtime stories in his room and when his grandmother would often stay by his side until he fell asleep. He remembered feeling the weight of being Prince on his shoulders when he started various trainings needed for his existence. He remembered staring out of his own window on the night he decided to bear the burden of being King in his brother’s place.

But now, he’d come to understand that all the loads that he’d been carrying with him was nothing comparable to the weight his people had been carrying all their life just so they could make their ends meet. He was living in luxury that he was blinded by the mere fact of how blessed he was with the people he was surrounded with – from people who trusted him, who had given him enough faith to carry the load of _their_ happiness in return.

They understood that he’s just human, that he’s only a young man who had not even experienced what living truly meant. They understood how he was being trapped within this four walls, how he was being overwhelmed by responsibilities that he had yet to know how to handle, and how one decision of his weighted the entire nation.

It was his people’s empathy that had enlightened him. It was his people’s blessing that had pushed him into becoming a better ruler.

And today, he was once again receiving blessings from his people as he stood in the aisle set up in the centre of the castle garden, with Noiz, surrounded by cheers and excited people, showered by confetti as they spoke their vows.

This was the official pact between their nations, as well as the final knot he’d strung himself together with Noiz to make both him and Noiz and their nations one.

His brother was almost tearing up, a twisted grin that suggested between a sob and a smile gracing his features. Koujaku was struggling hard to maintain his composure as he stood in one corner of the garden, away from the crowd. And finally, right in front of him, was Noiz, who was smiling so genuinely at him that he couldn’t help but feel tears accumulating at the corners of his eyes.

Today, two nations welcomed more than just one Prince home, but two very precious human beings who had come to enlighten two big nations on what it meant to be a good ruler and how much they’re willing to risk for the welfare of their own kingdoms.

That was perhaps why their happiness was equivalent to their people’s happiness now.

When Noiz leaned in to kiss Aoba, the castle ground exploded in such garish, intense joy that it made Aoba wonder if he was _really_ worthy of such happiness.

He had been carrying the weight of his nation now, and he’d always be carrying it.

And now, he’d be carrying more weight on his shoulders – weight of Noiz, weight of Noiz’s nation, weight of every other encounters he was to make in the future.

But it’d be worth it, he told himself as he allowed Noiz to bridal hug him into the chamber. Because without these weights, he’d never be able to discover how amazing living is. Without this weight, he’d never be able to acknowledge how living in tough times could also be a blessing of its own.

And regardless of what’d come their way in the future, he knew that they’d be ready for it.

Because it was precisely thanks to his noble encounter with Noiz that had told him it took more than what he already had to be Prince, and how he and Noiz were both perfectly human, and would always be so.

 


	5. Extra: Deservingly Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A present lies in the depth of the Main Hall, a place where Aoba has been resisting his steps. But in the depth of this very hall lies the result of many appreciative souls who'd found a rightful way to thank their Prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So [the prototype of the highly anticipated Gothic Aoba 1/8 scale figurine](https://twitter.com/NitroplusCHiRAL/status/891547098147020800) was disclosed today and despite being on my 35th no-sleep hour as I'm writing this, I couldn't help but wanting to write an extra for this story that was inspired by Gothic Aoba's design, sharing the excitement of the announcement and prototype disclosure of this scale figurine.
> 
> It's super self-indulgent but it's something that I need to pluck out of my mind before I lose it. Thank you everyone for making this fig happen, for believing in Aoba and thank you Aoba for being such an amazing inspiration ;v;
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy!

“Checkmate.”

“Ah.”

Sei propped a tad forward, staring at the chess piece -- one which Aoba had just moved -- before he slanted against the chair, heaving a sigh.

“Aoba has been exceptionally cruel these days.”

Aoba lifted a smirk, straightening his posture than crossing his arms.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Sei returned a smile as he supported his face with his knuckles. “Ever since you came back, you have been somehow… different.”

The remark wiped the grin off Aoba’s face, his arms relaxed.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” he asked, just to make sure.

Sei closed his eyes, still smiling. “That’s for Aoba to decide.”

“Hmm,” Aoba pouted, thin frown forming in between his eyebrows as he scrutinized Sei closely.

“Anyway, Aoba shouldn’t worry too much about it. What’s more important is what Aoba has decided from the within, isn’t it?” Sei interrupted his thoughts, eyes meeting Aoba’s before he leaned close towards Aoba. “Another round?”

“I’d love to but,” Aoba paused, beaming rancorously at his brother, obviously taken aback.

“A meeting?”

“Yeah.”

“With…  _ someone _ ?”

Aoba released a rowdy cough in response. 

“It’s not what you think it is. It’s about the expansion of borders. We are figuring out how to break the walls and, you know, combine-- you don’t look like you believe me,” Aoba trailed, ending with a deeper frown, alongside a bigger pout.

“No such thing, I always believe in Aoba, you know that,” Sei chortled. “I’m just thinking that even if it’s not related to obligations, there’s nothing wrong with both you and Prince Wilhelm to meet each other. You are together, aren’t you?”

Aoba looked away, no longer able to endure Sei’s suggestive gaze. Nothing of what Sei said was false and nothing of what Aoba had explained was a lie either. But he’d always conceived that he should be keeping personal matters out of others’ eyesight as much as he could, presuming that to be a prince’s responsibility and deeming that to be the image he needed to uphold. He’d done fairly well in front of his parents, even with his Knights and allies. But when it came to Sei… whenever he was to meet eyes with his brother’s pair of dark, black eyes, he felt as if everything that he was thinking was being exposed right there and then, that even when he had nothing to hide, his brother seemed to have figured out what he wanted to say even before he could spell his first word.

Perhaps that was what it meant being twins -- Sei simply just  _ knew _ everything about him.

“So, what is it?” Sei pulled a higher grin. “Just a meeting, or…?”

“Argh, fine, we’ll go out later.  _ After _ the meeting,” Aoba growled, gaining interest in the pot of dandelion sitting just right by his side.

“That’s good to know,” Sei clapped his hands together. “I like to see both of you taking time off for yourself.”

“But you know… we’re princes,” Aoba mumbled under his breath.

“Princes are humans too; but above all, you’re my brother, I only want the best for you. Besides,” with a pause, Sei inched closer, raising his hand and flickering a featherlight trace along Aoba’s face. “You need to let me do some work too, you know? You’re always shouldering everything by yourself. Didn’t you appoint me as your bishop, as an exchange of taking the throne away from me?”

“Ah… you don’t have to put it that way…” Aoba sighed, pressing his palm against the back of Sei’s hand at the same time. “I guess you’re right. I can be too indulged with everything that’s happening at times, I need to relax once a while. And by that, I mean asking for your help sometimes, as long as it’s not burdening you more than your health already is.”

“That’s more like it,” Sei ended his words with a playful pinch on Aoba’s cheek. “But before I hand you over to Prince Wilhelm, could you come with me for a short while? I have something I want to show you.”

“Huh? Sure.”

Well, that was rare. It’s always been Aoba who was showing Sei things he found on days when he did his conventional explorations. Thanks to Sei’s body condition, he wasn’t able to travel too far, so Aoba had always deemed it to be a responsibility for himself to share interesting things with Sei whenever he found one. Being on the receiving end was new; he couldn’t help but wonder what it could be.

Walking side-by-side with Sei had always been a leisure thing to do; they’d share small talks, or simply just paced quietly, enjoying the pleasant silence between the both of them. From time to time, they’d bump into people who would greet them and engage in a short conversation with them, and occasionally, when Koujaku was to meet them walking together, they’d earn conversations that were more than just a greeting. But today, it was none of them. They strolled along the corridors, passing by gardens after gardens, and came to stand in front of a door of a hall Aoba was already more than familiar with.

The memory of him being here for the first time wasn’t something that he’d like to remember in such an off-the-cuff manner. The experience had thrown him into an exhaustive surprise, the shock so overwhelming he couldn’t bring himself to meet eyes with anyone that was sharing the same space as him at that moment of time. Coming back to the castle in a way as humble as he could after the six months of stranding in the world of normality was his intention; the process definitely was part of his expectation. But setting foot in the castle had told him that everything was merely his wishful thinking. He was a Prince, after all. And right from the moment he set foot into this very Hall, he knew instantly that nothing in here was meant to be humble.

He swallowed down his throat, stealing a sideway glance at Sei, and immediately feeling chills running down his spine the moment he caught sight of Sei’s smile. 

He knew what this smile implied -- he knew it  _ way too well _ .

He was about to experience history all over again.

“Erm, S-Sei?” he asked cautiously, a final desperate attempt to seek for a way out.

“What is it, Aoba?” Sei asked, still smiling.

“What is… in here?”

“What do you mean? You know what’s in here.”

But Aoba was  _ sure _ that whatever that was inside  _ now _ was more than the two enormous portraits he’d seen of himself and Noiz that had him screaming internally when they made their first appearance in front of his very eyes.

“C’mon,” Sei nudged, holding Aoba gently on the wrist and guiding both of them towards the door.

The heavy door opened in a drag, evoking roaring sounds that echoed throughout the quiet, outspread space. Dimly lit, the Main Hall had ceilings as tall as a five-storey building. Their footsteps echoed with every stride they took, their breathing the only sound in the hall. It didn’t seem like anyone was here, and as they walked, Aoba glanced around, still getting the eerie feeling of chilliness every time he was to walk in this space.

The deeper they walked into the hall, the brighter it became. And while Aoba had tried very hard not to secure gaze with the two colossal structure in the middle of the hall, he eventually had to surrender to his fate when Sei stopped walking. Having to face this embarrassment again was against his own will; having to see  _ his own face _ looking down at him charred him from the inside. So he held his gaze off for as long as he could, heart sinking when Sei poked him on the elbow, knowing what was to come.

“We’ve done something to fill up the space, something that’s more durable.”

He didn’t even want to consider exactly  _ what _ it could be; the portrait was enough -- more than enough. Anything more would only make him want to throw himself out of the window.

“C’mon, Aoba, you’ll like this.”

With more pestering, he looked up, heart falling to the bottom of his stomach, his jaws dropped upon setting eyes on the two humongous,  _ solid-rock _ structures in front of them.

Right by the sides of both the portraits were statues that were as tall as their subordinates. Even under the shadowy lighting, Aoba could make out just how much intricate work that had been applied on them -- with a flushed monotone base colour of glossy gray, the details were one-of-a-kind, every inch of the structure seemed to be sculptured with ultimate care. As he squinted to get a better look, he realized that they held postures exactly the same as the portraits, just that they were now solidified and materialized into more than just a picture, but actual elements of their own.

“W-what… why…” Aoba could only say, still gaping.

“They’re not done yet, but I was pondering if you would like to see how they look like first. We thought it’d be nice to have something sturdy as remembrance for your return, and of course, for everything you have done for us,” Sei explained in a singsong manner. “It was hard trying to keep them a secret from you, though. But since you never set foot into this place ever since that day, it makes things easier for us.”

“‘Us’?” Aoba wondered out loud. “Wait, whose idea is this? It can’t be yours. Can it be--” A familiar smirk flashed past his head. “I can’t believe this. And you agreed to it?”

“This is not the result of a mere man’s decision; it’s a collective agreement. What’s not to agree to, anyway? Prince Wilhelm obviously has you in good heart. And I have to admit that this idea is very creative as well, we’ve never done anything like this before.”

“ _ Precisely _ ,” Aoba retorted. “I mean,  _ who _ would do something like this? A.. a…  _ statue _ .”

“Why not?”

“I’m still alive, brother,” Aoba pouted, responding in a sarcastic manner. “Even when it’s for remembrance for everything I’ve done, the portraits are more than enough, this is just… just…  _ too much _ !”

“You don’t like it?” Sei asked, in what sounded like a small whisper.

“It’s not that,” Aoba quickly reaffirmed. “It’s just that, I think it’s… you’re doing too much. It’s really okay, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. I don’t ask for these extravagant treatments just because of what I’ve done. Besides, it’s…” Aoba paused, looking away, no longer able to endure the sight of himself, now ten times bigger staring down at him. “...it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh,” Sei clapped a hand to his mouth, his tone sounding as if he’d just come to realize something. “The last point is your true thought, isn’t it?”

“Huh? Wait, no. No, no, no! That’s not it! I meant everything I said! Argh, that brat…”

Sei chuckled then. Ruffling Aoba on the hair, he pulled Aoba closer, encouraging him to take a better look at the statue. It’s exactly like how it was in the portrait -- Aoba looked perfectly exquisite and elegant, the graceful piece of royalty, gothic-like attire he used to wear crafted in a tedious yet intricate manner that made it look as if it was swaying with the breeze. He could see his own expression, big and clear. The only thing was, he’d always deemed this expression that was plastered on his portrait -- now his statue -- one that was overly exaggerating. He didn’t know if he had ever made a face like that, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever. 

“You’re beautiful, Aoba,” Sei continued, speaking in a gentle manner, even though the solemnity of his tone was crystal clear. “Everyone agrees to this face, not only me and Prince Wilhelm, but Father, Mother, Koujaku, your people; everyone. When we wanted to make this, no one objected to the idea. You’ve always looked so confident and so optimistic; a great influence to people around you. Having you back is like a guilty chance we’d taken for granted. You could’ve chosen to settle a peaceful quiet life, without these heavy obligations on your shoulders after being able to pull yourself off these chains life as tangled around you. Yet, despite that, you choose to return, to continue serving your country and your people, to continue bringing happiness to people whom have come to know you. It might not mean a lot to you, Aoba, but for people who have been influenced by your mere existence, it means the world to them. And by that, we all agree that you deserve this, and even more. It’s not just for you, Aoba. We’re also doing this for ourselves -- to remind ourselves that if someone like you could be such an impactful influence, then there is no excuse for us to give up in anything we are to do.”

Aoba listened to Sei without interrupting him, taking every word he said into consideration. The weight of everything he said had yet to sink into him but he knew that they were words that he couldn’t deny the reality of it. He might not be able to understand how simply existing could create such an impact to people around him, because all he knew was that, as a Prince, his responsibility was to serve his people; nothing else.

But it clearly meant more than what he’d taken on face value. There were understandings within his people towards him that he had yet to grasp, and these appreciations had resulted in them giving back to him such in the form of such a prodigious reward.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure that he was truly deserving of everything people claimed him to be. But… there’s no reason for him to say no either. If it’s something he couldn’t understand himself, then it’s not his place to say no for people to give him what they think he deserved. It’d be undermining the intentions of people who trusted him.

With a brief smile, he placed his hand on top of Sei’s, whom had his hand encircling Aoba’s arm.

“I don’t know what to say,” Aoba admitted. “It’s… this is a lot to me. I don’t know what to do to be able to repay everyone. Of course, I don’t mean only for this… thing. But, you know, a lot of other things you have done for me. Koujaku, Father, Mother, Noiz… everyone. I don’t think I’ve been doing my best yet but I’m still trying, and I don’t think I’ve been able to give everyone what they really want yet, even when I’m supposed to be Prince.”

“Aoba,” Sei stopped him, pressing a finger against his lips as he did. “You don’t have to think so much about it. Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”

With that said, Sei tip-toed and kissed Aoba on the top of his head.

“Don’t you have a meeting then a date with Prince Wilhelm later? Might want to hurry.”

Aoba wanted to tell Sei that it’s not a date but simply a day out to check the town out but Sei had walked towards the door before he had the chance to speak, stepping out of the hall. Aoba remained standing rooted on the spot, still trying to understand the depth of what his brother had just told him. His footsteps synchronized with his heartbeats as he walked closer towards the statue, then placing one hand on the base of it, slowly and gently caressing the stone-cold material.

“I should be the one thanking all of you. I don’t know what I have done but I’m sure that without the support everyone has given me, I would never be able to stand here and to be where I am today. For that, I owe everyone everything that I am capable of doing.”

He came down to one knee, crouching to kiss the cold base of the solid material.

“I’ll continue trying my best for everyone, if that’s the only thing I need to do.”

And with a last smile directed at his own statue, he turned his back towards it, pacing towards the exit, already thinking about all the reprimands he was going to throw Noiz when he met him later.

Not as Princes, but simply as two normal persons trying to understand life on the same eye level of a normal person -- like how they’d promised each other before they decided to returning to who they really are.

Perhaps one day, Aoba would come to realize what Sei really meant behind his words. Perhaps one day, Aoba would come to understand the authentic impact he owned that had inspired more people than he would ever consider.

And perhaps one day, he could finally come to accept the gratitude his people had poured onto him, with no resistance whatsoever, just by being who he deservingly was.

 


	6. Extra Story: Peace of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a reminder is all they need at times where burdens are too suffocating to handle.

Intricate patterns of white glided weightlessly downwards from the pristine sky above, his footsteps creating trails behind him as he strolled across the garden, now overcasted in a refined snowy scene. Gentle cold breeze grazed past his face as he glimpsed up at the sky, small flakes falling onto his face, spurring him to shake his head lightly, then wiping the icy sensation off his cheek with a tiny chuckle.

“Prince Aoba!”

He turned around at the call of his name, smiling when he caught sight of a servant, rushing towards him with a white furry cloak in his hands.

“Prince Aoba, you… you need to…” the man panted, struggling to put words out as he raised the cloak for Aoba to see.

“No hurries,” Aoba beamed gently. He took the cloak off the man’s hand, then sprawled it over his own body.  _ Ah, much better now _ , he thought to himself. He hadn’t been noticing how chilly he really felt until he’s snuggled by warmth in this way. He chortled at the thought of his Knight, Koujaku’s face if he was to see him being careless about his own wellbeing again.

“Prince Aoba, you forgot… this,” the man straightened himself up, finally able to catch his breath.

“Thank you for bringing this all the way for me,” Aoba nodded, gingerly patting the man’s shoulder at the same time.

“I-It’s no problem! Taking care of you is our responsibility!”

Aoba let out a bitter smile. He’d told literally every other person who’d come to interact with him to not be too courteous with him. Sure, he’s Prince, but at the same time, he never wanted to be treated like a Prince simply he was one. All that he yearned for was for his people to be comfortable with him, not treating him like a figure that’s too far away to reach, nor a personnel who only held onto power he still had no idea of its consequences.

“Prince Aoba, are you sure you don’t need anyone to escort you today?” the man asked, all the while staring as Aoba adjusted the knots on his cloak.

“Hm? It’s okay; the land is peaceful now. Besides,” he tugged his cloak open, just enough for the man to catch sight of the sword he’d kept hidden beneath the thick garments. “I’m a Prince who’d been through war too. I can fight for myself if needed.”

“But…” the man faltered, clearly hesitating.

With a laugh, Aoba tapped him on the head.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be out for long. If Koujaku asks, tell him I’d be back before sunset.”

“U-Understood!” the man bowed. “Please have a safe trip today, Prince Aoba!”

“You have a good day yourself too.”

And with a wave of his hand, Aoba turned his back towards the man, his footsteps moony as he strolled his way towards the bulky gateway.

It’s common for Aoba to be hanging out in town ever since he returned to the castle one year before. Despite everything that had happened to him prior to his return, he never saw himself as any different than before. He was still a Prince who had yet to learn about all his responsibilities, and he was still a Prince who still found it hard to breathe upon having to carry the weight on his shoulders. If there’s anything that’s any different at all, it’ll be his mindset. 

He’d learned -- through the painful way -- of how tough peace was obtained. And he’d learned how priceless was it to be able to live everyday like it should. There’s nothing he could do with the life and duties he was granted with, but at the very least, he’d like to experience the normal life being anyone but a Prince, and was able to do so when he blended into the life of the villagers during his continuous visit in town, to whom the villagers had come to respect his wish eventually, treating him like any other person whenever they saw him around.

As usual, the village today was congested with buzz, with life, and with everything Aoba would never find in the castle. He loved this atmosphere; the sounds of frizzling in a distance that was someone frying a fish, the chatter of two old men reminiscing their life outside a small hut that’s only enough to accommodate one person, and the noise of children chasing after each other, playing catch, totally unruffled by the scene of poverty. Here was where Aoba was able to see things the way they were; in this everyday scenery, he could feel spirits, struggles, and happiness at the end of the day when ends were met.

“Prince Aoba!”

He halted his steps upon hearing his name. While he looked around for the source of the voice, a man had made his way towards his side, grinning when Aoba acknowledged his existence.

“Hello,” Aoba pulled a smile. “How are you today?”

“Good, I guess? Winter is a pain to get used to but eventually we just do,” the man broke into a wide grin.

“That’s good to hear. Remember to keep yourself warm.”

“We try,” the man nodded. “That said, what brings our prince into town today?”

“Haha, the usual,” Aoba chuckled. “Just want to look around, and see if there’s anything I can help out with.”

“We can’t ask a Prince to gather branches for us, can we?” the man joked. “Oh, right.”

While Aoba stared questionably, the man had reached out into a sack he’d been carrying on his shoulder, lugging out what seemed to be a crudely wrapped chunk of meat.

“Boar’s meat. You don’t get this in the castle,” he said, pushing it towards Aoba’s hand at the same time.

“W-Wow, thank you,” Aoba managed a smile, albeit with difficulty. 

“Maybe you can ask your chef to prepare you a dish out of it. I know the castle is strict with dine-ins, but you can’t be eating silk and vegetables all the time, right? Sometimes you need to understand the wild, feel the rough life of the-- ouch!”

“Now, now, what are you trying to do to our Prince, eh?”

Before the man could finish his words, a woman had come marching towards him, then hitting him on the head with a pan. 

“I’m sorry, Prince Aoba. He used to be a merchant, so he could be pretty pushy when he tries to sell you things.”

“I’m not even trying to sell anything!” the man growled, hand rubbing on his head.

“Can’t you see that Prince Aoba is troubled?! You insensitive brat!”

“Ouch, ouch! Okay, stop, stop! I’ll stop!”

“Good. Anyway, Prince Aoba, the weather is turning cold nowadays, are you making sure that you’re keeping yourself warm?” the woman said with a gentle smile.

“As you can see,” Aoba spread his arms, turning one round to unveil his cloak. “I’m taking care… or rather, everyone is taking care of me.”

“Good, good. We wouldn’t want to see our Prince catch a cold. That said… can you wait for me for a bit? I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

After a bow, the woman throttled away as Aoba watched her walking into a small hut, then coming out in the next second with a bowl in her hand.

“It’s vegetable soup. Fresh and hot from the stove.”

“I-Is this really okay?” Aoba gawked. 

“Of course it is! It’s fortunate that you decided to stop by when I’m making this. If you don’t mind, please drink this to warm yourself up.”

“Of course I won’t mind,” Aoba hurriedly said. “Thank you very much for the offer.”

And while he was about to take the bowl into his hand, the bowl was taken away, causing him to watch then gaped in surprise when he realized who had stole his soup away from him.

“Noiz…”

“Caught red-handed for putting your defense down again.”

Noiz, the Prince of Midorijima’s partner country, held a gaze as frigid and as dismissive as ever when he gave Aoba a side-eye.

“How rude of you,” Aoba frowned. 

“You never know,” Noiz said, sounding as deadpanned as always. He brought the bowl to his mouth, blew it for a few times, then took a sip of it.

“Hey!” Aoba reprimanded, but Noiz didn’t seem at all affected by him as he closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them again to look properly at Aoba at long last.

“Seems fine. Here you go,” he commented, pushing the bowl towards Aoba as he did.

“That’s  _ so rude _ , Noiz.  _ So rude _ ,” Aoba complained.

“Prince Wilhelm, welcome to Midorijima,” the woman to whom he’d stolen the soup from bowed.

“Thank you for the soup,” Noiz said with a nod.

“You’re most welcome. It’s my honor to know that you enjoyed it.”

“It’s supposed to be  _ mine _ ,” Aoba pouted.

“It’s not like I finished everything,” Noiz retorted.

“ _ Still _ .”

“Please don’t fight, I’ll bring another--”

“Oh, oh no, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it,” Aoba quickly shakes his hand.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. He simply likes to make a fuss out of everything.”

“Hey!”

“Ah, haha, looks like our Princes are getting along well today too,” the woman grinned. “I shall make my move then. Have a good day, Prince Aoba, Prince Wilhelm.”

“Thank you for the soup!” Aoba waved her farewell before he turned around to glare at Noiz.

“What?”

“Nothing.” With that said, Aoba walked away, completely ignoring Noiz, as he continued walking along the stalls.

“What are you doing here anyway?” he finally spoke, noticing that Noiz had followed him closely by his side. “We aren’t meeting until tonight, no?”

“I wanted to go somewhere else before going into the castle.”

“And that somewhere else is supposed to be here?” Aoba perked a curious eyebrow.

Noiz, however, remained silent. While he left Aoba in a daze, he picked Aoba’s hand up, gently tugging on him.

“Come,” was all he said before he started dragging Aoba away from the crowd, away from town.

“W-Wait, Noiz?!”

His strength wasn’t especially strong but was enough to make Aoba walk with him. Giving up on struggling, Aoba grasped onto his hand instead, having them to intertwine their fingers as they made their way into the woods.

“Wait, Noiz, this direction is…”

It didn’t take Aoba long to finally realize where Noiz was about to bring him. It’s been a year, though. Why would Noiz want to revisit the place again after such a long time?

Or has he already been visiting the place all this while without Aoba knowing?

Soon after, as expected, they came to a stop in front of a small hut, one that Aoba was more than familiar with. He’d never imagined himself to be here again, let alone stepping into the very space when Noiz escorted him towards the door and into the house.

Surprisingly, the space was spotless, organized, and it clearly looked like it’s been well taken off during their absence. Shooting a suspicious gaze at Noiz’s direction, Noiz merely shrugged.

“Can’t leave it alone for some reason.”

“You’ve been taking care of this place? For the past year?”

Noiz walked towards the bed without answering. Touching the mattress with light strokes, he released a light breath.

“Somehow,” he said at long last. “Too many things happened here. Feels like a dream.”

It’s not like Aoba couldn’t understand how Noiz felt, though. Whatever that had happened in this very place felt like a delusion. The time that they’d shared here was one of a guilty escapade; it was a time when they were not burdened by who they really were, and one to which they could truly be themselves in the most natural way possible.

In this place, there were no Princes Aoba nor Wilhelm. In this place, there were only Aoba and Noiz.

Inching close towards Noiz, Aoba hugged him from the back, face pressing against the soft, expensive texture of Noiz’s winter cloak as he closed his eyes.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we could return to that time again? Just sometimes, for a short while,” he said in a low voice. “Nothing to worry about, just taking time for ourselves, doing our own thing. No courtly rules, no codes of ethics to follow -- just living our life as normal beings.”

“It was the happiest time in my life,” Noiz breathed, hand placed on top of Aoba’s as he stroked the back of it. “It made me feel alive.”

Hearing that, Aoba released his embrace on Noiz’s body and turned him around so that he was facing him. 

“You don’t feel any of that now? Life, happiness…”

“I do, but not as strong,” Noiz admitted. He crouched a tad to stroke his thumbs against Aoba’s cheekbones before he slanted forward to kiss Aoba on the forehead. “You’re not with me all the time, unlike that time.”

It’s an unfledged, selfish wish. Both of them knew about it. Yet both of them yearned for it.

But they can’t. There were things that were more important in this world than each other. They were being entrusted of such responsibilities, their destinies decided for them before they were born. And all that they had to do now was to live it properly, carrying the fates of thousands of people on their very own shoulders, while making sure that their own happiness wasn’t forsaken at the same time.

“We’re still meeting each other frequently, aren’t we?” Aoba consoled.

“One day, I’ll make sure to have you by my side at all times,” Noiz said, lifting Aoba’s hand up to kiss the back of it. “I’ll marry you one day, Aoba, when our countries obtain their stable peace.”

“W-What…!” Aoba blushed, but Noiz had lurched forward to kiss him on the lips before he could say anything, taking his words away from him.

It was easier said than done. How ironic it is, for Princes -- the most important people in their very own countries -- to be unable to decide their own future for themselves? But as they deepened their kisses, as he felt Noiz’s fervent heartbeats against his own chest when they pressed their bodies together, and when warmth spread from his inside out the moment he felt Noiz’s smile against his own lips, he knew that Noiz meant everything he said, and would do anything in his ability to make his promise come true.

Crisp, cool air rushed through the window and into the room, blanketing them in chilliness that was the winter wind. But they felt no coldness as they continued holding each other in their arms, not even winter was enough to extinguish the burning passion they held within each other and towards each other.

 


End file.
